Last Time of My Life
by Sakura02
Summary: Okita Soji is dying. He knows that now and in time, learns to actually accept the hand that life has dealt him. This is how he deals with the last year of his life.
1. August

Last Time of My Life

_Hey all! I'm back with a new Peacemaker Kurogane fic. And I'm just going to say this now to get it out of the way: this is a chapter fic, and it will span for 12 chapters. I hate saying that because we all know what happened last time to a certain fic that had this many (and more) chapters. It took me how long to finish? Four years? So, don't be expecting back-to-back updates or anything._

_PLEASE READ: Events in this chapter, and probably a majority of this story, are going to happen in a different order than the anime or manga, or history for that matter. Also, it differs on how everyone (including Okita) finds out about the tuberculosis. __**I KNOW.**__ I did that on purpose. But historically, this will take place in 1867, one year before Okita's death and two years after Yaminami's. So, please don't review or email me telling me something I've already told you._

_Disclaimer: Characters belong to history, characters in the form of a manga belong to Nanae Chrono._

_Also, thanks to Hellfire for helping edit and revise this chapter._

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Chapter One: August

He had coughed all morning. But it was nothing; his room was a little drafty at night, and anything could have made him cough. He had coughed so much that by noon, his throat was raw and his chest was on fire. Kondo had scheduled a practice session for all the captains that would be held later that afternoon. Thank God he had chosen the training hall and not the open courtyard because it was already starting to get cold outside.

They were still in the final days of summer, but already some of the leaves were starting to change color. The air was still dry during the day, but nights were beginning to get a lot cooler than usual for this time of year, and for that he was grateful. He was so hot at night. A lot during the day too, but mostly it was at night. Sometimes he would throw the covers off, just to get comfortable.

But this wasn't the first day that he was coughing. No, it had been about a month now. It came and went, and generally wasn't that bad. Whenever Hijikata or Kondo asked him about it--the two closest to him--he told them it was just a cold. He was sure they would get suspicious (he was starting to himself); a month was such a long time to have a cold, and what would he tell them now? He was coughing so much more than he had back then.

Now, he was out patrolling the streets with Hijikata. It was rare for Hijikata to be out on the streets during the day, but he had insisted on coming with Okita this morning. They were both wearing their Shinsengumi haori, accompanied by the swords dangling at their sides.

"You know," Okita said nonchalantly. "We're getting some awfully cold looks today."

"Who cares?" Hijikata answered. "You act like this is all new to you."

"It is, actually. They always look at us like we were anybody else. I think it has to do with you being here; you're so scary-looking that it frightens them."

Okita started to laugh at his own joke. He found it incredibly funny how the townspeople reacted to Hijikata's presence, if that truly was the reason they continued to stare so coldly. As he laughed, he became vaguely aware of the sudden tightening in his chest, but brushed it off as a product of finding Hijikata so droll. They continued to walk, until Okita's laughter came to an abrupt stop.

"Soji?" Hijikata asked, stopping to turn in Okita's direction.

"I can't breathe..."

Hijikata watched Okita who was bent forward, leaning on his knees, trying to catch his breath. There was no trace of a smile on his face and his cheeks were flushed. Okita began to stagger, but just as Hijikata stepped forward to brace him, Okita stood up straight and smiled timidly.

"That was weird," Okita said, still panting some.

"That's all you've got to say for yourself? You looked like you were going to pass out."

Okita said nothing; he didn't want to admit to Hijikata that he thought he _was_ going to pass out. For a minute he couldn't breathe and the lack of oxygen had made him feel faint. But the feeling had gone just as fast as it had come, and that's what really worried him. He coughed lightly, hiding his face as he winced; his chest and throat burned. He looked up at the sky, shading his eyes from the sun with his arm. What time was it? He was in no hurry to get back for the captain's practice session, but he did want to get back to Headquarters, if anything, just to talk to Yamazaki about his strange symptoms.

"All right, I think we're done here," Hijikata said facing the small troupe of Shinsengumi members that had accompanied them for patrol.

They all turned to him, confused. Okita knew the practice session wasn't for at least another two hours, which still gave them plenty of time to finish patrolling. So he, along with the rest of the troupe had no idea what Hijikata was getting at.

"Hijikata-san, what are you doing?" Okita whispered to the vice-commander, not wanting to contradict orders in front of the other memebers. "We still have time--"

"You want to see Yamazaki-kun, don't you?"

Nothing got past Hijikata.

"I do, yes," Okita said. "It can wait until later though."

"Fine," Hijikata said gruffly. "Just remember: Kondo reserved all day tomorrow for everyone's bi-yearly physical."

Okita frowned, trying to go unnoticed. He had forgotten all about that. The bi-yearly physical ususally took place in July, but this year it had been postponed due to the Ikedaya Affair, and Kondo had stated at the last captain's meeting that it would be the very day after their practice session. Whether or not he told Yamazaki about his symptoms today, the ninja-turned-doctor was sure to find something during the physical.

He sighed. What was he so worried about? So, he had a cough and one measly spell of lightheadedness, big deal.

"Okay," Okita said, surpressing a cough. "We'll go back now...but we take the long way."

Hijikata knew that the "long way" meant still patrolling the streets, but doing so in a matter that would please both him and Okita. Even with this compromise, Hijikata still felt defeated. He had known Okita for years and by now it felt like second nature to him to notice whenever something was bothering the young captain. Okita needed to see Yamazaki, that much he was sure.

º º º

On Okita's way to the training hall, he passed Hijikata's page, Tetsunosuke. He was carrying a tray laden with two cups of tea. Kondo's practice sessions were usually private, but today, he had allowed any and all Shinsengumi members that wanted to watch to come and do so.

Okita's mind wandered. He hadn't told Yamazaki about his symtpoms. The again, Okita hadn't done much of anything since returning from patrol; he'd barely had the time to change into his training clothes.

"Hi, Okita-san," Tetsu greeted. "I heard from Kondo-san that you were going to be in the first match."

Okita only smiled. He followed Tetsu into the training hall. A lot more people showed up than what he originally thought, but that never bothered him. He sat himself one space away from Hijikata to allow room for his page and watched as Tetsu served tea to Kondo, and then to Hijikata. Tetsu took his seat, and everyone waited for Kondo to speak.

"Okay, you two," Kondo said after a sip of tea. "First match participants."

Okita stood up, tying his hair back away from his face. Earlier in the week, Kondo had asked him to fight first as a sort of demonstration for the other members. Someone else stood up as well, and Okita noticed it was Todo Heisuke. There were whispers from the crowd, all of them in Okita's favor. Heisuke was the eighth unit captain, he wouldn't stand a chance against the first unit's Okita Soji, they said.

Both Okita and Heisuke walked to opposite ends of the hall, each taking a bokken sword from a rack on the wall. They turned to face each other, Heisuke already in his stance. Okita held up his hand, signaling him to wait. He coughed into his other hand, then fluidly went into his stance. Kondo instructed them to begin.

Okita knew what to do. He had trained with Heisuke before and he knew he had a bad habit of attacking straight forward as his opening move. So, as Heisuke charged toward him, Okita moved into a defensive stance, stepping to the side, and causing Heisuke to stumble awkwardly. Immediately, Okita went back on the offensive, striking Heisuke on the forearm. Heisuke, temporarily learning from his mistake, turned back to face Okita, allowing him to make the next move. Okita lunged forward, bokken lowered for he was aiming for Heisuke's ribs. Heisuke was unable to find an opening in Okita's attack and ended up taking a direct blow. As he fell to one knee, he was grateful they were only using bokken, not that it lessened the pain much. He didn't have much time to think of a strategy, for as soon as he stood, Okita was coming towards him again. He blocked Okita's bokken with his own and for a moment, the two were in a stalemate. It might have gone on longer, but Heisuke pushed back Okita's bokken and hit him in the chest with the butt of his own hilt. It was a cheap move and he knew it, but it was a split-decision, last-resort kind of move. Okita staggered back, dropping his bokken in the process.

The match was over.

"The winner: Todo Heisuke!" Kondo yelled.

As people got up to congratulate Heisuke, Okita removed himself from the training hall. He walked across the raised deck and began to cough. His entire diaphragm hurt now. The more he coughed the more he felt like he was going to vomit. He didn't blame Heisuke, but it didn't help that he had been hit that hard. He coughed once more, tasting copper. He walked to the end of the raised deck and spit into the dirt. He saw blood.

Awestruck at seeing the blood come from his mouth, Okita subconciously began rubbing the right side of his chest, where Heisuke had hit him. It hurt and started to feel bruised. He knew that it was going to hurt the moment he was hit, but it shouldn't have made his entire chest feel this way. And he couldn't breathe properly; it felt like his ribs were pushing his lungs together. What was wrong with him? Yamazaki was inside the training hall in case someone were to injure themselves in their matches...Should he tell him? He didn't know why he had suddenly changed his mind about seeing the doctor; he had been somewhat eager to talk with him earlier.

Still undecided, Okita walked back into the training hall and took his seat next to Tetsu.

"I already talked to Yamazaki-kun," Hijikata said as soon as he noticed that Okita had returned.

Okita turned his head and saw Hijikata leaning over Tetsu to whisper to him.

"But Hijikata-san," Okita whined, leaning the other way over Tetsu to whisper back to Hijikata. "I wanted to be the one to tell him."

By now, little Tetsu got the gist and pushed himself back, away from Okita and Hijikata. Although he was curious to know what they were talking about, he absolutely refused to be a Tetsu-sandwich.

"You looked so pale when you were fighting that someone else was bound to tell him eventually," Hijikata snapped, ending the discussion.

Okita coughed a few times into his hand. He knew Hijikata was right about someone telling Yamazaki about him, but it still hurt to know that he was beginning to look so bad that now others were starting to take some notice. He should have figured as much, he guessed; he was coughing a lot more, and he even had to admit, he felt a little sick.

º º º

Okita asked that his dinner be brought to his room later that night. He had coughed all day and was completely exhausted. He hadn't seen anymore blood, but still his lungs felt like they were only working at half-capacity; it was just so hard to catch his breath. Thanks to what Hijikata said, Yamazaki was going to be meeting with him privately before tomorrow's required physical. Okita sighed, and then put his hand to his mouth to muffle the coughs that followed.

He felt worse than he had all day and now he just wanted to sleep. He curled up on his futon, not even bothering to get under the covers. Shutting his eyes, he listened to the world around him. There wasn't really much to listen to; there were a few people walking around Headquarters. Most people were done with dinner, with an exception of the stragglers, while the rest of them were probably getting ready to relax before going to bed. Okita could already feel himself drifting off to sleep.

_Cough, cough_.

He opened his eyes and moaned. Coughing made it hard to breathe, which therefore made it hard to sleep. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.

_Cough, cough_.

Damn it. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight, was he?

This time when he closed his eyes, he tried to concentrate on falling asleep as fast as he could. He soon learned that wishing to fall asleep meant not falling asleep. It didn't feel like much longer, but eventually Okita fell asleep. Even as he slept, he could unconsciously hear and feel himself coughing, removing him from the deep sleep in which he wished to remain.

"Okita-san?"

Now, when Okita coughed, he could feel his whole body shake. It was annoying. He opened his eyes and saw Yamazaki staring down at him.

"Yamazaki-kun, what are you doing here?" Okita asked groggily.

"Hijikata-san asked that I do a check-up on you," Yamazaki said. "I knocked first, but you never answered; I didn't think you'd be asleep this early. I'm sorry to wake you."

"It's very hard to sleep when you can't breathe," Okita said trying to laugh, but failing miserably. He was not in the best of moods.

"You've probably caught a cold, and it's no wonder; it's freezing in here," Yamazaki said. "And, you're not bothering to cover yourself."

Yamazaki looked down at where Okita lie, noticing the covers that were under him. Okita also wasn't wearing any socks. Okita's room was facing the North, which, during this time year, was usually where the strong winds came from. None of the rooms were well-insulated, but a lot of the time, the temperature of each room depended strongly on it's location.

"I've never heard of anyone coughing up blood when they have a cold," Okita said.

º º º

When Okita had said that, Yamazaki had had no choice but to further examine him. He listened to Okita's coughs, and on many occasions Okita felt that his personal space was being violated when Yamazaki listened to his breathing and his lungs. Okita knew he sounded worse than he had that morning.

"Wait, Yamazaki-kun," Okita had said as Yamazaki got up to leave.

Yamazaki turned back. At that time, he didn't yet have a prognosis for Okita's symptoms, but he had already concluded that it wasn't just a mere cold that ailed the Shinsengumi's first unit captain. He hadn't mentioned it at the time, but during the examination, Yamazaki knew Okita had coughed a little blood into his hand. Although Okita had already pointed that out to him before, he neglected to show or tell Yamazaki the moment it happened. Yamazaki had only seen the blood when Okita had attempted to wipe it onto the edge of his futon.

"Whenever you find out...what's wrong with me," Okita seemed to have had a hard time with that sentence," please don't tell Kondo-san or Hijikata-san. As soon as you know, come to me first."

That had been three weeks ago. Since then, Yamazaki had done little else but study Okita's symptoms in medical textbooks purposely left behind by Matsumoto. When asked why he had suddenly turned reclusive (more so than usual they would often add), he said the only thing that seemed to be acceptable and not result in any further questions: "It is simply a case of doctor-patient confidentiality."

When Yamazaki had finally come to a consensus, his heart ached. Immediately, he had gone to visit Matsumoto to see what he thought; Yamazaki prayed to God that he had somehow confused the symptoms with some other disease. But that wasn't the case. Matsumoto had agreed with everything about the diagnosis, and when Yamazaki hoped to change the doctor's mind by stating what he had heard in Okita's lungs, Matsumoto had told him that it couldn't have been anything else. All symptoms matched perfectly and there was absolutely no mistake.

Okita Soji had tuberculosis.

Yamazaki hung his head and retreated back to Shinsengumi Headquarters. He was sure Okita would know just by looking at his face, but it was still Yamazaki's duty to do as he had been instructed. It was early afternoon, which was when most members tended to do whatever they pleased (not that they didn't do that regularly, too), so Yamazaki hoped to find Okita so he could talk with him privately.

Okita was out behind the training hall sitting with Saizou. That's where Yamazaki found him.

"Yamazaki-kun," Okita greeted cheerfully. "You're looking rather down today. What's--"

Okita's smiling face suddenly faltered. He put Saizou back on the ground and stood up so he could listen to what Yamazaki had to say.

"It's not good is it?"

It was a moment before Yamazaki could answer him, but finally he said, "You have tuberculosis."

Yamazaki stopped there. What more was there to say? Okita's life had just been shattered with this very information; was it really necessary to tell him he only had a year left? Maybe it was, but Yamazaki couldn't bring himself to be the bearer of more bad news. Not today. To his surprise though, Okita didn't seem too phased to hear this. He was shocked, of course, Yamazaki could see it in his eyes; but Okita's face remained unnaturally calm.

"Thank you, Yamazaki-kun...for telling me the truth."

Okita lowered his head, hiding his expression as he walked past Yamazaki. Yamazaki couldn't be certain, but he thought he saw a small smirk on the captain's lips. He knew it was definitely a ruse for hiding his remorse.

"Are you going to be all right?" Yamazaki asked.

Of course, Yamazaki didn't mean overall; Okita was going to _die_, not too many people would be all right with that. But Yamazaki didn't want the information he had given Okita to ruin him for the rest of his very short life. He still had time, it wasn't much, but it was a hell of a lot more than some people got. Okita just needed to pull through this moment.

"When I was growing up, I knew someone with tuberculosis," Okita said, stopping. "I still know them, in fact. Perhaps you know who I'm talking about, Yamazaki-kun?"

º º º

_Ikedaya Affair (history): July 1864_

_Ikedaya Affair (fanfiction): July 1867_

_Woohoo, I altered history! You know, ever since I started reading/watching Peacemaker, I've noticed that I've become a lot more interested in the Shinsengumi. I'm not Japanese or anything, but I would have loved to learn about Japanese imperialism in school. Now, I'm stuck reading about it on Wikipedia and getting small tidbits of information from historical manga (i.e. "Peacemaker Kurogane" and "Kaze Hikaru"). Although, I can't believe everything I read, especially if it's from a manga, but at least the historical Shinsengumi figures are portrayed as such in manga. Did that make sense? I'm going to stop talking about this before I start confusing myselsf. _

_Anyway, tell me what you thought about the chapter. Suggestions welcomed. Oh, and as stated at the beginning, I owe Hellfire a bunch for helping me edit this chapter and for some other things down the road._

_Next chapter: a new character connected to Okita's past will be revealed._


	2. September

Last Time of My Life

_In my opinion, there is A LOT of talking in this chapter, and I also believe that it was all necessary. No filler-space allowed!_

_See you at the end of the chapter. :)_

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Chapter Two: September

The days and nights were cooler now, and all the tree leaves had changed to reflect the season. This was Okita's favorite time of the year. He liked cooler weather in general, but ever since he'd been diagnosed, Yamazaki had done everything in his ability to keep Okita as away from the elements as was necessary. Although it had already been a month, Okita still refused to tell anyone he was sick.

There was someone within the Shinsengumi whom he really wanted to speak with, but for one reason or another, he never found the time. Yamazaki liked to do frequent check-ups on Okita, which kept him inside a lot more often than usual. If not Yamazaki, then Kondo was requesting an audience with him to find out how his physical had gone. Kondo was required to know the status of his troops from a report given by Yamazaki, but Okita had pleaded with the doctor not to mention anything about his illness. Okita knew Yamazaki couldn't withhold that information forever, and already Kondo was beginning to get impatient, but Okita told himself that Kondo would be notified just as soon as he was able to come up with a way to tell him.

Okita knew the effects of tuberculosis. It was true what he told Yamazaki about him growing up with someone who had the disease. He hated how it had made that person so weak and incapacitated, but he found it a little ironic to think that it was now going to start plaguing him as well. At last, he thought of something to ask of Kondo.

"Kondo-sensei?" Okita tried. He only ever used that title when he spoke privately with the commander.

"What is it, Soji?" Kondo asked. "Have you finally decided to tell me how your physical went?"

"No, sorry," Okita replied, bowing his head. "I came to ask permission to speak with Takeuchi-san."

For a while, Kondo said nothing, causing Okita to wonder whether or not he had heard him. Okita knew it was a strange request, but meeting with Takeuchi was sure to lift some weight off his chest; Takeuchi would definitely have a solution for telling Kondo about Okita's illness.

Finally, Kondo said, "You know Takeuchi-san is--"

"Very sick, yes. Please, it's very important that we speak."

There was silence as Kondo contemplated his decision. Okita knew it was hard for Kondo to refuse him anything; the two had known each other for a long time and considered each other as close as brothers. It was only now that Okita was glad Kondo was head of the Shinsengumi; if he had asked, let's say, Hijikata, Okita knew his chances with meeting with Takeuchi were no better than slim to none. Laughing to himself, Okita decided to give Kondo one last pleading glance...

"I will schedule a meeting for the two of you later on today," Kondo sighed, realizing he was defeated.

"Thank you so much, Kondo-sensei!" Okita beamed.

He was truly excited about meeting with Takeuchi, but he couldn't very well tell Kondo all those reasons. Takeuchi was so sickly that it was rare that _anyone_ was able to hold an audience. It was for that reason that Okita was sure Kondo would consult Yamazaki to see if Takeuchi was well enough to meet with him, and Okita knew Yamazaki would say that a small meeting would be fine.

"Are you all right, Soji?" Kondo asked after a mintue.

"Of course I am," Okita said still smiling. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just...," Kondo began to hesitate. "Toshi noticed that you've been coughing a lot at night, and right now, your face is a little flushed. You don't still have that cold, do you?"

At first, Okita was caught off-guard by the question, but it didn't take long for him to regain his composure. He and Hijikata were the only members in the Shinsengumi that shared a joint-bedroom, separated by a shoji door; it was only natural for Hijikata to hear Okita whenever he coughed, seeing as that's when his coughs were at their peak. As for his face being flushed, he didn't feel sick, but Yamazaki said that he would become more prone to fevers since his weakening immune system wouldn't be able to fight off as many infections. If Kondo had asked, Okita would have openly agreed to being unusually tired as of late, but decided to take it for granted that Kondo had not bothered to inquire further.

"I promise to tell you everything once I've spoken with Takeuchi-san," Okita said, bowing low to the floor. "Thank you again."

As Okita stood up to leave, he was sure Kondo could hear when his breathing pattern changed. His body had gotten weaker during the past month, that even something so small as standing up left Okita feeling a little breathless. He stepped onto the raised deck and made his way down the hall to see Yamazaki to tell him about his future meeting with Takeuchi.

º º º

"But Yamazaki-kun--"

Okita's visit with Yamazaki was not going well. When Okita had mentioned his conversation with Kondo, Yamazaki laughed and said that there was little harm Takeuchi's illness could do to someone else suffering the same fate. Okita had found it humorous too, but when Yamazaki insisted that he tell Kondo about his disease before the meeting with Takeuchi, everything had started to go downhill.

"You know you can't keep this from him forever," Yamazaki said irritably. He was now in the middle of one of Okita's examinations. "Breathe in."

"I know that, but what'll happen then?"

Yamazaki rolled his eyes. "I didn't tell you to exhale yet. And what do you mean 'what'll happen?' Life will continue to go about normally; there will still be wars and battles, and the Choshu will still preach that _sonno joi_ nonsense."

"I already told Kondo-san that I would tell him everything after meeting with Takeuchi...," Okita said, more to himself than to Yamazaki.

"Then, what's the problem?"

"I don't _want_ to tell him!" Okita shouted, turning around to face the doctor.

Okita's sudden outburst had caused a strain on his weakened body and he started to cough violently. Yamazaki, taking it all in stride, reached for the glass of water he had set out for Okita earlier and handed it to him.

"You shouldn't have said anything if you weren't willing to tell him," Yamazaki said calmly. "Why don't I do it for you?"

With this, Okita sputtered and began to choke on his water. "No, you can't," he said finally, clearing his throat. "If anyone's going to tell Kondo-san, it's going to be me."

Yamazaki's eyes widened; what a strange kid, he thought.

"Yamazaki-kun, you can't tell Kondo-san," Okita said pathetically. "And if it comes down to having to tell him, I hope Takeuchi-san can help me through it."

"First, we should concentrate on keeping you well enough so Kondo-san doesn't figure it out on his own. Now, take a deep breath and hold it until I tell you to release."

They were both relatively quite after that. Okita turned back around and continued to let Yamazaki examine him. Yamazaki was not pleased with the worsening sound he heard in the captain's lungs, and once when Okita coughed, Yamazaki hid his face behind his kimono sleeve. He knew Okita was slowly getting sicker and would eventually have to be isolated like Takeuchi.

Tuberculosis was contagious, but Okita wasn't so sick that he could spread the disease to others just yet. At least, that's what Yamazaki hoped for. He knew Okita had been ill in the months prior to being diagnosed, all the Shinsengumi had known; but with him being a doctor, it was only natural that he noticed these things beforehand. How long had he been living with the disease though? Okita had not wanted to be examined in the first place, saying that he suffered from nothing more than a cold, and in the end, it was Hijikata who made sure that Yamazaki checked into that. Although Yamazaki had begun to notice symptoms alluding to a more serious sickness back in June, he had done nothing and continued to pretend to believe Okita's poor excuse of an illness. With Okita now starting to show more signs of disease, he was sure to be more contagious, and Yamazaki knew he was going to have to start taking precautions in the future when it came to Okita's involvement in the Shinsengumi.

"Susumu?"

"It's Tetsu-kun," Yamazaki muttered after being brought back from his thoughts. "Come in."

Yamazaki heard the shoji door slide open, but kept his attention on Okita.

"I was looking for Okita-san," Tetsu started absentmindedly. "Do you know where--oh!"

Both Okita and Yamazaki turned to face Tetsu. Seeing the page's expression, Okita started to laugh, causing Yamazaki to frown deeply. What Tetsu had seen upon entering was Okita sitting with his back to Yamazaki, the top of his kimono down at his waist leaving him bare-backed; and Yamazaki, one of his hands on Okita's back as he leaned in closer to the ailing man to listen to his lungs.

"A-Am I interrupting something?" Tetsu stammered as he clutched the doorframe.

"Not at all," Okita said, turning around and pulling his kimono up to cover his shoulders.

"What do you want?" Yamazaki asked standing up.

"Oh," Tetsu said, blinking. "I was looking for you, Okita-san. Kondo-san said that Takeuchi-san is ready to meet with you and will be waiting for you at the appropriate location."

Okita's smile faltered, but it was just slight enough to go unnoticed. He was ready to meet with Takeuchi, but it was what they would talk about and what to (or not to) tell Kondo afterwards that worried him. He had hoped that talking with Yamazaki beforehand would help ease his nerves, but he realized that it had had the opposite effect.

"Thank you, Tetsu-kun," Okita said.

Okita walked past Yamazaki and the page slowly, and did not dare to look back. He knew Yamazaki was upset with him, and for perfectly good reasons. Being a doctor, it was Yamazaki's job to care for each member of the Shinsengumi whenever the help was desired, but that's just where Okita had a problem. Yamazaki was a great man and a very good friend of his, but he did not want anyone to find out about him being so gravely sick. As Okita continued to walk across the raised deck, he thought that if he were to place the blame on someone, it would undoubtedly have to be set on Hijikata's shoulders. If not for Hijikata's consant worrying, Okita would never have had to admit that something was really wrong with him. He had known for a while now that what plagued him was not a mere cold, considering they typically didn't generate symptoms such as spitting up blood and an extreme lack of energy. He knew he really should be thankful to Hijikata for caring so much, but when Yamazaki told him that he had tuberculosis, his whole world had been crushed. Okita knew what the disease meant for him, and from there his thoughts strayed to Takeuchi.

Takeuchi was a very sick individual, one who had been known for suffering from tuberculosis for many years. Although the disease continued to sap away the strength, Takeuchi was still somewhat of an active Shinsengumi member. Takeuchi did, however, live somewhat of a different lifestyle than the other members; frequent visits from Matsumoto were required, as was living in a separate room within Headquarters. Okita always thought of this room like an outhouse; it was still connected to everyone else's living quarters, but on the other hand, it wasn't. It was a little confusing that way.

As Okita took the dog run leading to Takeuchi's secluded, isolated home, he began to feel a surge of giddiness. The two of them had not met face-to-face in what seemed like forever and Okita had so much he wanted to say. He was a little disappointed, however, that a majority of the things he wanted to talk about revolved around him being sick. Nonetheless, he glued a smile to his face as he came up to the shoji doors and knocked.

There was silence, so much so, that Okita began to wonder if he should knock again. As he picked up his hand to do so, he thought he heard some movement within the apartment. He listened carefully, placing his ear almost directly on top of the paper screen, when he was startled by a voice within telling him to open the door.

"Amaterasu," Okita said, stepping forward and closing the shoji door behind him.

The Shinsengumi member looked at him and smiled. She was sitting up in her futon, draped in a multitude of clothing from kimono to sheets and quilts. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulders and she watched Okita with an almost feline-like stare as he moved about the room, her eyes the color of the deepest blue. Okita noticed the book laying beside her futon and couldn't help but smile; for as long as he'd known her, Takeuchi had always favored reading. Her room still looked the same since the last he'd seen it, too; from the evergreen tatami mats, to the bookshelves, to the unmistakable fragrance of medicinal incense, everything was exactly how he remembered it.

It had been a few months since Okita had last seen her, and since then, her body seemed to have deteriorated greatly. Her skin was deathly pale, her eyes were sunken, and her cheeks were gaunt. Yet, despite all that, Okita still saw her as a very beautiful woman. She was the person whom Okita had referred to when he had mentioned to Yamazaki about growing up with someone with tuberculosis. They had discovered her illness about the time when Okita was 6, and since then, her health seemed to plummet. Now, just over a decade later, Okita still couldn't believe that she was alive; he was truly amazed by her willpower.

"Soji," Takeuchi said, her voice melodious, as she sat up straighter and moved a strand of hair behind her ear. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Okita moved to sit down, cross-legged, beside her. It was only then that he realized how unusually stuffy her room was. Maybe it was just the reminder of what he came to tell her that made it so stifling, but Okita couldn't help but start to feel just a little uneasy in the small enclosed room.

"Not now," Okita said, shaking his head. "I want to know about you. How are _you_ doing?"

"Not horrible, considering. Matsumoto-san actually thinks I'm starting to do better, and Yamazaki-kun and Kondo-san agreed that I might be able to leave this hovel soon. It'll be great to see how everyone else is doing.... Have you seen Ran and Satoshi lately?"

Before Okita could answer, Takeuchi began making a variety of bizarre noises--clicks of the tongue and other such nonsense. Within a few seconds she stopped, and Okita watched as three handsome-looking leopard cats emerged from behind a bookshelf. Two of the cats were slightly smaller than the third, and were no doubt the kittens. Okita recognized them almost immediately.

"Hey!" Okita shouted, reaching for the larger of the kittens, the male Satoshi. "They've both gotten so big, and Hotaru looks really good."

Takeuchi grabbed the smaller female kitten, Ran. "Yeah. I've been letting them go outside a lot more, but one day I'm afraid Satoshi isn't going to come back; he seems to like it so much better out there."

"I've never seen you worry so much," Okita said, stroking Satoshi's belly. "And over a _cat_."

After that, the two of them began idle chatter; wondering what the other had been up to and so forth. When it came time for Okita to talk about his recents events, he strategically skirted around the topic of his illness, making sure that everything he answered couldn't lead Takeuchi to ask about the bi-yearly physical. He told her about their battle at the Ikedaya and how Matsudaira-sama of Aizu had appreciated the Shinsengumi's valiance that he had given each member present a considerable pay.

Takeuchi, with little else to talk about other than herself, explained to Okita the latest condition of her ankle--an ever-present reminder of her father and the horrible childhood she suffered after her mother died. And although it was strange, she said, she was thankful for what her father had done...in a sick and twisted sort of way; without his constant demandings, Takeuchi felt that she couldn't have become the great swordswoman that she was today. Or rather, had been, thanks to her illness.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity for much longer. "I know you didn't just come here to chit-chat, and don't think I haven't noticed that you're hiding something from me. Since the moment you stepped foot in my room, I could tell your mind was elsewhere."

Okita sighed. So, it'd come to this already. How long had he been here? A half-hour, maybe; that wasn't nearly enough time for him to think about what he was going to say, but he knew he couldn't continue to sit on pins and needles--eventually things were going to get leaked out. His mind continued to race while he quickly tried to think of something to say, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Takeuchi coughed, startling him out of his reverie.

"I'm sick," he said brusquely. It was stupid and blunt, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"I thought so," Takeuchi said, causing Okita to look puzzled. "You had that sort of air about you, and you didn't tell me how your physical went. I'm not so isolated that I don't know when the phyiscal takes place; don't forget that I get them too. But what sickness could make you so ill as to make you fail your physical?"

"Who said I failed?" Okita said definsively, sitting Satoshi down beside him.

"We wouldn't be having this discussion if you hadn't. For you to fail due to sickness...only terminal illnesses can cause--"

Takeuchi's breath caught and all remaining color drained from her already pale face. She stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape, waiting to see whether he would confirm her suspicion or refute it. For a while, Okita didn't say anything; his eyes wandered around the room until they landed on a stick of incense burning in the corner. He continued to stare at it until his eyes were watery and his vision was blurred from not blinking.

_Yes, you're right; I'm terminal. Let's be tuberculosis buddies._ Probably not the best thing he could possibly say, but just thinking about his illness left Okita feeling frustrated all the way to his very core. He hated talking about, he hated _thinking_ about it. What he hated most about being sick was the pity. That was his main reason for not wanting to tell the whole of the Shinsengumi what ailed him. Even after all these years, he was still considered Kondo's perfect little student, and he knew that having the teacher's pet so sick would leave the men feeling uncharacteristically sympathetic towards him. It disgusted him. He took a deep breath and hoped that Takeuchi would not feel that way about him like he knew everyone else was bound to do.

Okita moved his eyes so that they met Takeuchi's and said, "It's true--I've got tuberculosis."

As soon as this was voiced, Okita's eyes darted downward to look at the hands that were clasped in his lap. He knew that if he met her eyes again, he would be able to see the pity in them, her silence was proof of this. Okita began to twiddle his thumbs in an awkward attempt to keep himself busy, but stopped and looked up when Takeuchi placed a pale slender hand over his. Her hand was ice cold.

He was surprised to see that he could not find a single trace of pity towards him in her eyes. Instead, there was a kind of mischievous twinkle in them. She smiled weakly at him and Okita tried to return the gesture the best he could.

"You haven't told Kondo-san, have you?" she asked him.

Okita could feel a lump in his throat. It was thick and he knew that if he even attempted to speak, his voice would have been very squeaky. So, he shook his head.

"How long have you known?"

Okita had to think about that one. He had not known the actual diagnosis until Yamazaki had examined him last month, but then, he had known something was wrong with him months before when his "cold" refused to go away.

"Not long," he decied, his voice a whisper. "Yamazaki-kun just diagnosed me last month."

Takeuchi studied him. Having lived with the disease so long herself she felt pretty confident in her ability to see just how far along he was. His skin was pale, but that was normal for him, and he either he didn't have that sickly feel about him yet, or he was doing an ideal of masking it. She began to wonder how long it had been since Okita contracted the disease. From the way he looked, it couldn't have been more than a few months, her guess was six at the most.

"So," Takeuchi started, flipping her hair. "I'm guessing that the reason you haven't told Kondo-san is because you're worried about hurting him. Tell me I'm right."

"Actually, you're very right. I hadn't really thought about it in that sense, but it's true. I've been with Kondo-san since our Shiekan days, and..." Okita trailed off, unable to finish his thought. "I don't know how to bring up the topic. How did you do it?" he added.

"I just came out and told him the truth. It had been obvious to everyone that something was wrong with me, and when I was finally examined by Matsumoto-san, I had no choice but to tell Kondo. Matsumoto was going to tell him anyway, so I figured it wouldn't be such a surprise if I went ahead and told Kondo-san beforehand. Don't look at me like that, Soji," Takeuchi added, seeing the look on Okita's face. "I had trouble with it too, but unlike you, it didn't take me quite as long to mull it over."

"I get it," Okita said, waving his hand in dismissal. "I already promised Kondo-san that I would tell him after meeting with you. I have a feeling he's getting impatient with me, and Yamazaki his exhausting his ability to lie for me."

Okita stood up to leave. He was glad to have the chance to talk with Takeuchi after all this time, but honestly, he was sick of talking about being sick. He just wanted out, now.

"You'll tell him tomorrow, then?" Takeuchi asked, arching her eyebrow.

"We'll see."

Okita gave her one last smile before stepping out, almost slamming the shoji door behind him. He sighed, feeling so exhausted from everything. As he took the dog run back to the main Headquarters, he replayed his conversation with Takeuchi in his mind, not really caring or paying attention to where he was walking.

_"I just came out and told him the truth."_

"I wish I could," he said aloud. "But it just isn't that easy."

Kondo would be crushed, he knew it. That's why he _had_ to say something before Yamazaki got fed up and did it himself. Knowing him, he would probably sugar-coat the diagnosis, making it sound as if Okita still had something to live for and so much time to reach his goals. And what of Hijikata? Okita had found it very un-Hijikata-like for him not to ask, even though he had been the one to suggest that Yamazaki do an examination. If Hijikata suspected an illness, why hadn't he told Kondo; or rather, if he _had_ told Kondo, the commander was being unusually quiet about it.

"Who are you talking to?"

Okita stopped. _Stupid_. How could he have been so _stupid_? He hadn't said anything to give himself away, but he had been asked and he was pretty sure he couldn't think of a lie that fast. His eyes had been on his feet, watching where he was walking as his mind wrapped around all these different concepts of sicknesses and sins, but when he heard that other voice, he had looked up...into the eyes of Hijikata.

º º º

_Takeuchi Amaterasu is not a historical/Nanae Chrono character! She is strictly an OC creation of Hellfire's. And I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but Takeuchi was not gender-specified until Okita went to visit her. Maybe it was just me being a wuss, but it was incredibly hard to write around the character without using a gender as a replacement pronoun. Takeuchi this, Takeuchi that...blah, blah, blah. Thanks for the character, Hellfire, and don't worry, I'll get more into Takeuchi's past elsewhere down the road. Sorry the chapter took so long. _

_I also wanted to say thanks to darkokita for telling me about Okita's mother. I actually had no idea about that, so I'm glad you were able to inform me. Thanks also for the consumption vs. tuberculosis spiel. I already knew that the disease was called consumption, but I chose to stay with TB, just because it's a lot more modern and everyone might not know what I was talking about if I used the latter. Oh, and thanks for pointing out my typo (we'll call it that): Ikedaya Jiken in history = JUNE._

_And I'm sorry, but I must apologize for making Okita so...manly. Yes, he's male and therefore, should be masculine, but c'mon! it's Okita. Those who know him from the anime/manga will undoubtedly know that, well, Okita's not very manly. At all, really. Hmm, sorry. I've been reading too much Naruto and their pissy ninja attitudes kind of just stick with me. This chapter was a little rushed at the end; I actually just wanted to get it over with so I could go to sleep. Authoress needs her sleep if she wants to write more and continue to make wonderful grades in college. Peace._

_Next chapter: Okita's illness is made public._


	3. October

Last Time of My Life

_Here's something funny: One of my friends is going to Japan this summer, and I had a choice between a Christmas present or a Japanese souvenir. Naturally, I chose the souvenir, which I was then asked to give an idea of what I wanted. D'you what I said? "Shinsengumi." Of all the many otaku-like things I could have said, I chose a Shinsengumi keepsake. I could have said bring me Kishimoto Masashi in a hand basket so I could beat the shit out of him for confusing the hell out of me in Naruto, or bring me an Ukitake plushie, OR, better yet, I could have said bring me the actor who played Sano in the Hana-Kimi drama series. But no, I wanted something Shinsengumi-related. Well, I thought it was funny... Anyway, here's chapter three. Enjoy._

º º º

Chapter Three: October

_"Who were you talking to?" Hijikata repeated._

_"N-N-No one. Just...myself."_

_Hijikata looked around as if searching for the person whom Okita had been speaking with. His eyes darted back to Okita and he began to stare, making the first unit captain a little uncomfortable._

_"H-Hijikata-san?"_

_"Come with me."_

_Okita nodded solemnly as he was led around Headquarters. It took Okita a second to realize that Hijikata had stopped outside of his room. Hijikata slid the door open and stood there, waiting for Okita to follow. He did and Hijikata closed the shoji door behind them._

_Hijikata's room was incredibly dull, although it would have been silly to think otherwise. The tatami mats were olive green; there was a futon, a dresser, and a minimal amount of various other pieces of furniture. On the right-hand wall were the shoji doors that led into Okita's room. Takeuchi's room was absolutely exquisite compared to Hijikata's. _

_The vice-commander retrieved two cups from a dresser, pouring warm tea into them; he handed one to Okita and kept the other for himself. Neither of them said anything, but Okita watched him closely; something about Hijikata was different. Why did he want Okita to follow him?_

_"Thank you," Okita said warily, taking a sip. The tea was extremely weak, no doubt something made by Tetsu._

_"I know about your illness."_

_For the second time that day, Okita began to choke on his drink. This time he did not recover as quickly and had to beat lightly on his chest a few times in order to swallow. Now slightly out of breath, he turned his attention back to Hijikata._

_"How?" he asked, his voice strained._

_"Ichimura-kun. Apparently he heard you talking with Yamazaki-kun."_

_Okita felt faint. This is exactly why he hadn't wanted to be examined in the first place; having already secretly known that something was wrong with him, he knew that eventually and against his own will, more and more people would begin to find out. Yamazaki, Takeuchi, and now Tetsu and Hijikata: the number of people who knew about his illness was starting to grow and a lot faster than Okita preferred; and those were the only ones that he knew about. Who knew if there were anymore? Tetsu had told Hijikata, but why? He was worried, of course; Okita had to admit that he probably would have done the same thing. And now Hijikata knew. _

_"What do you have?"_

_"Then...you don't know?" Okita asked, blinking._

_"Not really," Hijikata said running a hand through his long bangs. "Ichimura-kun just inferred that you were sick from the way you were talking with Yamazaki-kun, but neither of us actually know what you have. Tell me."_

_"I have..." Okita swallowed. It seemed like such a difficult word to say. He stared at the swirling steam emitting from his tea; Hijikata was the only other person aside from Takeuchi who actually got to hear the diagnosis from his very own mouth, but that didn't make it any less challenging. "Tuberculosis. I have tuberculosis."_

_Hijikata nodded. He knew a little about the disease from when he used to study medicine, but not nearly enough to tell him how far along Okita's condition was._

_Okita paled and placed his cup on the tatami beside him. If anyone was going to beat him to telling Kondo it was bound to be Hijikata--the man spent twice as much time with the commander than he did. After all these years, and he still wasn't sure, but Hijikata didn't look like much of a secret-keeper. _

_"I won't tell Kondo-san," Hijikata said, adding, "I know what you're thinking; you look like you're about to wet yourself."_

_"So then, Tetsu-kun doesn't know?"_

_"More or less. He doesn't know everything that I do now, but I can't promise that he won't want to find out more on his own."_

_Okita stood up slowly, his knees were shaking. He didn't know if he'd be able to, but he attempted to make his way over to the doors leading into his room. He had had too much for one day, and the only thing he wanted to do now was forget any of it ever happened; he hoped that if he went to sleep his dreams would temporarily relieve him. After what seemed an eternity, Okita at last reached the doors and slid them open. He took a step into his room, reaching back to slide the doors shut._

_"Hold on."_

_Already dreading anything else that could come out of Hijikata's mouth, Okita turned back over his shoulder, a dire look of distress on his face. Okita was so sick of people telling him that he needed to tell Kondo that he thought he might actually go insane if he heard it again. He really hoped Hijikata had something more important to say and would spare him the lecture._

_"Yes?" Okita asked in forced curiosity._

_"Don't tell Kondo-san."_

_His trembling legs no longer able to support him, Okita sank to his knees, a strange sort of relieved look covering his face. Finally, someone was going to side with him._

_"You don't know how I glad I am to hear that," Okita said smiling. "But why would you say that? The other few that know can't _wait_ for me to tell Kondo-san."_

_"I have my reasons. Now, go get some rest; you're starting to look sick... No pun intended," Hijikata added gruffly. "I'll make sure Ichimura doesn't say anything either."_

_Okita nodded. He wasn't going to argue with that; Hijikata didn't want him to tell Kondo whereas everyone else did. He still wasn't quite sure how Hijikata's opinion justified whether or not he actually _did_ tell Kondo, but he was just glad that someone was finally able to see things from his point of view, whether or not he actually knew Hijikata's true motive._

º º º

When Okita awoke that morning, he felt the worst he'd felt in the last three months, he was near downright miserable. He hadn't slept but a few hours due to his now ever-present coughing fits, and as a result of that, his chest and throat felt like they were on fire. As his illness progressed, Okita noticed that he was eating less, if his now baggy clothes were any indication. He was scheduled to go on patrol today with Shinpachi and Sano, so he tried not to think about how completely sick he felt as he combed through his hair with his fingertips and slipped on his haori.

He greeted Shinpachi and Sano at the front gate, coughing a little and wiping sweat from his brow; he was unusually warm this sunny autumn morning. They left the Shinsengumi Headquarters soon after that to begin their patrol. Their patrols never really consisted of much other than walking around, sporting their brightly-colored haori and flashing their katana and wakizashi to anyone who looked suspicious. Ever since the Ikedaya Affair back in June, the Choshu had been even more reluctant to hold their meetings during the day and in the most popular of the inns. Recent patrols hadn't turned up much other than a handful of open _sonno joi_ supporters. As they walked down the streets, Okita began to feel that strange tightening in his chest--the one that attached itself to Okita's feeling of his ribs closing in around his lungs, and that caused him to pant as he struggled to catch his breath.

With it now October, the fall weather was just beginning to settle. The cool, breezy days were almost a constant, as were the cold, sometimes frosty nights. Okita's room had not gotten any less drafty, and with the cooler weather and his delicate condition, Yamazaki often considered moving him into a better insulated room. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that without a proper raison d'être, and Okita still refused to tell Kondo about his illness. Okita agreed that his repudiations in the matter were quickly becoming ridiculous, but he argued that something or _someone_ always tried to stop him in the end. The topic of his illness had not been brought up again between him and Hijikata since the vice-commander had revealed last month that both he and Tetsu were now aware of what was going on, and Okita couldn't help but wonder why Hijikata was against him telling Kondo--it was unusual for him to want to keep things from the commander.

Okita coughed quietly into his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Shinpachi turn his head towards him, but when he actually glanced over, the red-headed captain had his eyes straight forward. He knew a lot of people were worried about his prolonged "cold", but he preferred it when they worried silently to themselves. Having them ask about his health only made him feel guilty for not saying anything, which then stressed him out. Frowning a little, he turned his attention back to the front as he wiped more sweat from his forehead.

"This is boring," Sano said. He untied his straw hat and began fanning himself with it. "It's so damn hot, too. Why don't we just head back?"

Despite the changed weather, today did seem warmer than normal. Okita had attributed it to his being sick--maybe he woke up with a fever--but hearing Sano complain about the heat made him reconsider and think that it was because of all the uniform parts they wore. Since their victory at the Ikedaya, Kondo had asked that patrolling officers wear their complete uniform, whereas before June, the captains only wore the haori to distinguish themselves, but rarely ever wore the full uniform.

"I'm not going to commit _seppuku_ because _you_ were too lazy," Shinpachi said jokingly. "Right, Soji?"

"But he's hot too," Sano interjected, starting to sound a little whiny. "His face is really red, and he's sweating a lot, and--hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied, smiling weakly. "Just a little tired."

That last part was true, but Okita was far from feeling fine. He must have been sicker this morning than he originally thought because right now, he felt horrible. He had begun to feel light-headed as they walked through the town, but he brushed it off, blaming it on the heat. Now, everything around him was spinning and his throat was unpleasantly dry--he needed to cough. He bent forward from the waist, dry heaving as his body was racked with coughs; he felt something rising in his throat and from there, his world went black.

º º º

He woke up to the smell of burning camphor. The odor was soothing, and yet, it burned his nostrils whenever he inhaled. Something cool was removed from his forehead and he whimpered feebly. He was somewhere inside and judging by the presence around him, he was surrounded by a number of people.

"Okita-san," the one closest to him said. It was Yamazaki. Somehow, hearing the doctor's voice soothed him just as the smell of the camphor did. "Can you hear me?"

Okita slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times to adjust them to the light. He was lying on the futon in his room surrounded by Yamazaki, Hijikata, Kondo, Tetsu, Takeuchi, and Shinpachi and Sano, both of whom were still dressed in their uniforms.

"Welcome back," Yamazaki said as he helped Okita into a sitting position.

Okita winced for he was still very dizzy, and although he wished he could have imagined it, he couldn't help but notice that despite the smile on his face, Yamazaki had looked at him rather coldly as he had helped him sit up. Okita knew he couldn't blame him if he was angry; he knew he should have told Kondo long ago about his condition and should be taking it easy instead of denying that anything was wrong and continuing to perform his usual duties as a captain.

"What happened?" Okita asked, his voice shaky.

He saw Shinpachi take a step forward and open his mouth as if to say something, but Yamazaki cut him off, saying, "You collapsed during your patrol, and you made a right mess of yourself too." Confused, Okita looked down and noticed that the whole of his front was covered and smeared with blood; he was also still dressed in his Shinsengumi uniform. The sight of so much of his own blood made him slightly woozy, but he tried to keep his composure when he remembered that he had already done one too many embarrassing things for one morning.

"Soji..." It was Kondo. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

"What do you mean?" Okita asked in false idiocy. Beside him, he heard Yamazaki sigh irritably. When their eyes met, the doctor just glared at him and shook his head. Okita knew he couldn't hide his illness from Kondo for much longer, but he hoped playing stupid would help him skirt around the issue for just a little longer.

"What do I--? You're covered in blood!" Kondo turned to look at Shinpachi and Sano for an explanation. "Were you attacked? You two don't have a scratch on you."

"No! They're fine; we weren't attacked," Okita paused. He took a deep breath and then continued. "I'm sick, Kondo-san."

"Well, I know that," Kondo said. "Everyone does. You've had that blasted cold for months now."

Here was Okita's chance to tell Kondo that he never had a cold and that he'd been hiding his tuberculosis this whole time. The thought of hurting Kondo and receiving pity convinced him to hold back just a little longer.

"That's right. A cold..." Okita whispered. Imagining the hurt Kondo would feel when he found out was nothing like the hurt Okita felt for lying. He was grown and old enough to know that lying only worsened the situation, but that meant nothing until he was finally ready to talk and decided to be honest about everything.

Okita played with the seam of his covers, waiting for Kondo to say something. Hopefully, he would buy his lame excuse for a cold one more time and leave to allow Okita to rest. He was sure that he would feel better after a nap and then he could walk around and pretend that none of this ever happened. He began to sigh, but the moment he inhaled, he doubled over as another coughing fit took hold over him.

This did not help his light-headedness at all, and he felt Yamazaki steady him as he began to sway. As his coughing ceased, he tried to avoid eye-contact with Kondo; that's all he needed was another reason to ask about his health. Instead, he looked up at Yamazaki, and smiled timidly. The doctor was not pleased with him, and in all honesty, Okita knew he had no reason to be. Okita figured that he deserved every cold glare thrown his way.

"Thank you," Okita murmured as he cleared his throat. He was referring to when Yamazaki caught him before he had almost fainted.

"Damn it, Okita!" Yamazaki shouted, dropping the honorific with the rise in his temper. "If you won't say anything then _I_ will!"

Looking as though he had just been slapped in the face, Okita stared at Yamazaki in horror. Although Okita knew Yamazaki had never _promised_ to keep his secret, Okita had hoped that there had at least been some sort of mutual understanding about it. Yamazaki knew Okita's reasons for not wanting to talk, and he had found them quite senseless, but never had Okita imagined that the doctor would actually go so far as to telling Kondo himself.

"You can't! You said..." Okita let his sentence die as he grabbed Yamazaki's kimono and looked up at him pleadingly. He was on the verge of tears, but he didn't care; Kondo _couldn't_ find out like this. "You said you wouldn't."

"Stop it," Yamazaki said angrily, pushing Okita back. "You only have one year left. Tell me why you would want to spend it wrapped up in lies!"

The room fell silent. Yamazaki cursed inwardly for letting his own secret slip. The estimated time of Okita's remaining life had been concluded from numerous readings Yamazaki had done on the disease and Matsumoto's own thoughts on the issue. Having Matsumoto be a veteran at treating Takeuchi's illness had really helped Yamazaki figure out a lot of things, including calculating how much time Okita still had. Although he knew that Takeuchi was a special and very rare case, he had hoped for a better outcome for Okita too. Unfortunately, that had not been the case, and now it was time that everyone knew that.

"One...year?" Okita stammered, sinking into his futon. "That's all I have?"

"Yes," Yamazaki said, lowering his head.

"They say that the moment you start coughing up blood marks your final year," Takeuchi said, speaking up for the first time from her location behind Kondo. All eyes fell on her, except for Okita as he continued to sit in a daze. "I've been lucky enough to prove that theory wrong. Maybe..." She left the rest of her sentence hanging in the air; pep-talks and optimism weren't going to make this situation any better, not now anyway.

Kondo's eyes shot back over to Okita, whose long bangs now hid his face. "So then, Soji...you--?"

Okita shook his head slowly, ignoring the tears as they began streaming down his cheeks. Everything was going wrong, _everything_. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone? Why did they have to care?

"He has tuberculosis."

There was a sharp pain in Okita's chest as Yamazaki said this. He knew it wasn't attribuated to his illness; his heart just ached. Kondo knew everything now, even more than Okita himself had known before five minutes ago.

"You knew about this Yamazaki-kun? Since August?"

"Yes," Yamazaki repeated, bowing low to the ground. "I apologize for not telling you when it was more relevant."

"I want to speak with you privately," Kondo said. "I cannot allow you to be our medical advisor anymore."

No one said anything, but Okita could hear the ruffling of clothes that told him everyone was getting up and leaving. He did nothing further, continuing to sit there with his head lowered. He listened to the muffled scoldings Yamazaki received from Kondo outside of his room. He heard Hijikata's, Tetsu's, and Takeuchi's voices, and then a very loud outburst from Kondo; the three of them must have admitted to knowing everything too. In the end, Kondo marched off and was followed by all but one. It had to have been Yamazaki, for he would need to return to his own room and collect his things.

Okita covered his face with his hand, not at all caring that more tears were streaming down his cheeks. His face was warm; so, it had been an early morning fever that had been his undoing. Sighing, he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and stood. He was still dressed in his Shinsengumi uniform and it was still covered in his blood; it was disgusting and he needed to change. Throwing his filthy uniform parts on the floor, he changed into a gray yukata (because the weather was still warm enough to allow for it), and then returned to sitting back down on his futon.

He thought about going out to talk to Kondo, or even Yamazaki, but soon reconsidered after having figured that he had caused enough trouble for the both of them to last a while. And was he upset with Yamazaki for telling Kondo about his sickness? It was kind of a tricky question, but Okita couldn't help about keep asking himself that. He had made Yamazaki aware of how much he hadn't wanted him to tell Kondo, that if anyone was going to it was to be him. After talking with the doctor last month, he knew his patience was wearing thin, and even then, Okita had said that he would say something to Kondo the moment he was finished talking with Takeuchi. He'd said a similar thing to Takeuchi herself, and yet, had not said a word. Then, there was Hijikata. The vice-commander had explained how he and Tetsu found out, and had told Okita not to say anything to Kondo. The poor first unit captain had found himself in a conundrum.

When Okita heard padded footfalls outside his room, he immediately decided he didn't want company right now. The footsteps stopped right outside his door, but hesitated before doing anything else. Judging from the silhouette, his visitor was none else than Yamazaki. After taking a few seconds to think about the matter, Okita figured that he definitely didn't want any company, least of all Yamazaki. Okita had way too many things on his mind, some concerning said doctor, that he really wished Yamazaki would continue walking across the platform and not attempt to come in.

Unfortunately, that was not going to be the case. Yamazaki grabbed for the door handle, stopped, and then resumed sliding the door open. The doctor stepped in, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. After sliding the door shut, he stood there, unsure of whether or not to come closer. Okita watched him closely. Yamazaki took the captain's penetrating stare as his cue to move forward. He walked over to Okita and sat next to him, placing the ceramic cup down beside him. He sighed when Okita turned his head away in defiance.

"Look, I'm sorry. You know I didn't have any other choice." When Okita refused to look at him, Yamazaki added, "Will you stop pouting already?"

"You'll have to commit seppuku, won't you?" Okita asked quietly after a while.

Okita turned back to look at Yamazaki, his eyes blood-shot and filling with tears again. He tried to blink them away because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop them once they started flowing.

"Possiby," Yamazaki said indifferently. "Apparently I violated Article I, section 5 of the 7 Virtues from the Shinsengumi regulations."

"The honesty clause?"

Yamazaki nodded. "'Failing to be truthful with your commanding officer (in this case that would be Kondo-san) when asked to provide specific information.' By denying Kondo-san your medical reports, I broke the rules of Bushido."

"That's not fair," Okita said apprehensively. "If anyone violated Bushido, it was me. I _told_ you not to say anything to Kondo-san; you tried to persuade me to do otherwise. They can't punish you for my stupidity!"

"No one's been punished yet," Yamazaki said, sliding the cup he had brought in over towards Okita. "Kondo-san said he needed to talk things over with Hijikata-san--if you want to talk fair, Okita: Hijikata-san and Takeuchi-san also violated regulations by keeping your secret. I think Tetsu-kun will be fine since he never really knew what was wrong, but Kondo-san said we should know something as early as February."

Okita pushed his hair out of his face and let out a small sigh. He wasn't going to say "I'm sorry" because there was no point. Those two words alone couldn't justify Okita's actions and portray his feelings of guilt and despair. There was no need to talk to Kondo to get him to reconsider his plans--it was doubtful that he would ever consult Okita again, let alone trust him. Okita wanted to find blame in someone other than himself, but no matter how many fingers were pointed, he always found his want for lack of pity and his not wanting to hurt anyone at fault. Damn it, and it was that ignorance that got him every time.

"You worry too much over the smallest things," Yamazaki said, pushing the cup of tea even closer to Okita.

"You're not worried? You could die!"

"Then, I think I'll be okay with that, if that's what Kondo wants. Joining the Shinsengumi, even if I'm just a doctor now, means that I pledged everything to my commanding officer, and that includes my life."

This was true, Okita had to admit. He had vowed the same thing when he joined, and then again when he had been made captain of the first unit. Having to sacrifice yourself was supposed to be an honorable thing, even if the reason that you were punished with seppuku was not. Lying was a terrible thing, and was often punished this way. He had known that Kondo's knowledge about his illness would cause trouble for Yamazaki, but he never would have guess that Kondo would suggest ritual suicide, and Hijikata, Takeuchi, and even little Tetsu were in danger of suffering the same fate.

Okita reached down for the cup Yamazaki was implyingly insisting that he drink. The warm sensation of the tea as it trickled down his throat and into his stomach calmed him and helped clear his troubled thoughts; this was the exact same feeling he got when he smelled the camphor burning. He was stupid for withholding information from Kondo and the Shinsengumi, but now that everything was finally out on the table, and he had discussed possible repercussions with Yamazaki, he actually started feeling a sense of relief. Of course, he hated what might happen to his friends, but he was glad that his one big secret would now be known by many. In the beginning he had been afraid that telling Kondo would hurt the commander greatly, and although that may still be the case, Okita knew it was better this way.

"Thank you, Yamazaki-kun," he said smiling over his cup of tea.

º º º

_Yes, there is a lot of Okita-Yamazaki interaction; no, they are not (and will never be) a couple, at least not in my fanfic. I just happen to love Yamazaki as much as I love Okita. Also, on the Shinsengumi regulations, the article is real, the "section 5 of the 7 Virtues" was taken from the actual code of Bushido used way back when, but was not actually stated in those words. Oh, and in case anyone is wondering what camphor is, it's a certain substance that can be burned as incense, and has a variety of different uses including, but not limited to, moth and snake repellent, an anesthetic, cough suppressant, and can be absorbed through the skin to act as a cooling agent._

_I actually didn't enjoy writing this chapter until Okita woke up after his patrol. The flashback was okay, but I felt that the patrol was rushed and poorly written. And this chapter went through A LOT of revisions: I played around with dialogue in the flashback, cut an entire scene out before the patrol, and when it got time for Kondo to find out about Okita's tuberculosis, I wrote that whole section in pieces and had to go back and fill in the holes when I was finished. And ALL. THE. TALKING. Ugh! This chapter was also not supposed to end where and how it did. One more event (that led to other events in future chapters) was going to take place, but I was so sick of this chapter, that I just had to end it. Ten whole pages with 4, 827 words--wow. ºrepeatedly stabs chapter with a forkº_

_P.S. Hellfire, sorry Takeuchi didn't have much of a role in this chapter (hell, it was almost nonexistent). I'll make it up to you with my next update._

_P.P.S. I was just about to sing/type you all some lyrics of a song...but I'm not. It was a song that I have on a CD that I know I've heard before and that I knew was from an anime, but had no idea who sang it or what anime it was from (although I thought it sounded like L'ArcenCiel). But just I was typing my rant about not knowing what the song was from it came to me. The song's "Lost Heaven" by L'ArcenCiel, the ending from the Fullmetal Alchemist movie. Damn, now I feel stupid. :(_

_Next chapter: Okita begins his isolation from the rest of the Shinsengumi; plus, some bonus material for Hellfire._


	4. November

Last Time of My Life

_W00t, it's chapter four! I just want to give a BIG thanks to all the reviewers (and also to the readers who don't review) for being so supportive of me and this story. You have no idea how elated you make me feel--I love you all._

_Oh yeah, the real Okita wasn't born in Hokkaido. I know. Get over it._

_This chapter is dedicated to Hellfire13. Read her fic; she writes Shakespeare! /PLUG_

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Chapter Four: November

_She put the food down beside her as a distant thunder clap could be heard from miles away. The storm was moving on. Upstairs in the main house, she could hear her father fumbling around in the kitchen--no doubt looking for another bottle of sake. He would probably be back to beat her soon, so she would need to hurry._

_As her eyes scanned around for something useful, she heard her father collapse from one too many bottles of sake. Her eyes fell on a large rock and she reached over to grab it. Once she had it, she raised it above her head with both arms and then slammed it down on the iron manacle around her ankle... She missed._

_Dropping the rock to the floor, she slapped both her hands over her mouth to muffle her scream. The pain of her mistake was blindingly white and caused her eyes to quickly well up with tears. She steeled herself against the pain and reached for the rock again. Her hands shaking, she brought the rock back down against the manacle, taking precautions to aim a little better. When it made contact with the metal, the manacle weakened under the force of the rock. It would take just a few more hits before giving out completely and she would be free._

º º º

Okita sat at the front of the rows, dressed in his training hakama. Although Yamazaki now tried to prevent his exercise in these training sessions, he was still a captain and refused to not still set an example for the other troops. Word of his illness had spread rapidly last month, and when asked, Okita no longer hesitated in answering the truth. It was because of this that Okita became respected a great deal more than he had been previously. Unfortunately, things were not so well with the Kondo situation. The commander had spoken very little to his first unit captain, and when he did it was usually just in passing.

He put his hand to his mouth as his stomach did another flip-flop. Yamazaki had had him try a special kind of tea that morning to help ease the constant chest pain he had been experiencing as of late, but so far, the drink had done nothing but make his stomach terribly sick. After the sudden wave of nausea had passed, Okita returned his gaze to the match before him; Tetsu versus Takeuchi.

Tetsu, now close to coming of age, was finally going to be permitted to take on active Shinsengumi roles, and not just those of a page. His swordsmanship was mediorce at best, and he had been instruced by Kondo and Hijikata to participate in every practice session held by the Shinsengumi until they deemed him worthy enough to perform his new duties accordingly; until then, he was to remain a slave to Hijikata.

Okita had to admit that he felt a little envious as he watched Takeuchi easily block Tetsu's shinai sword. Having the disease for far longer than he, it was only natural to assume that she was sicker than him, but if that was the case, why was she still allowed to practice when he had been forbidden from it? She did have Matsumoto as a physician, whereas he had Yamazaki, but he figured that their limitations as tuberculosis patients should be similar if not exactly the same. Matsumoto was at Headquarters, too. Now that Takeuchi had been temporarily removed from isolation, the good doctor seemed to spend a lot more time here than at his clinic in town.

He coughed into his hands, ignoring the few pairs of eyes that had suddenly turned to him. Yamazaki had told him that he only had a year left, but did any of the other Shinsengumi members know that other than the few that had been there when the doctor announced it? Okita hoped not. Yes, he was going to play that game again. Enough people knew too much as it was, and he expected the morale of the troops to slip if they found out that he was probably going to die within the next year.

Tetsu threw a vicious attack, grazing Takeuchi's cheek with his shinai as she managed to parry his move by side-stepping behind him. She turned back to launch another attack, but winced suddenly before sinking to the ground; Tetsu had to skip a few times to stop himself from toppling over her. Four people ran to Takeuchi's aid including Kondo, the two doctors, and Okita himself. His sprint towards Takeuchi caused his stomach to shift uncomfortably, and he covered his mouth and swallowed in an attempt to stop himself from throwing up.

Matsumoto and Yamazaki were the firsts to reach Takeuchi, respectively. She didn't look like she was in much pain, but she was touching her right ankle gingerly.

"It's fine," she said as the doctors approached her. "I think I just stepped on it wrong."

"All the same, I think I should take a look at it," Matsumoto said to her.

Yamazaki pulled her to her feet so he could escort her to Matsumoto's small clinic within the Shinsengumi compound, and Takeuchi draped her right arm over his neck as he wrapped his left around her tiny waist. He began to lead her out of the training hall, but stopped just as he reached Okita. He frowned when he saw the captain's ashen complexion; Okita shook his head and smiled weakly before walking out past them.

After walking a ways from the training hall, he stopped, letting the autumn breeze cool his fevered skin. He started to gag, and this time he knew it would be useless to try and stop it, so he crouched down, stretching his neck off the side of the raised deck. Although he had been dressed as if he were participating in the practice session, he hadn't tied his hair back away from his face, so he knew that if he were to be sick, it would probably get in his hair. He didn't have much time to think any further on the matter, because he soon retched, spewing vomit into a nearby bush.

º º º

_Takeuchi Amaterasu had been an average, run-of-the-mill little girl. Her mother was a medicinal crystal user, meaning that she believed that with the right kind of crystals, she could tune the energy systems of someone's body to improve the health or otherwise general well-being of an individual. She claimed that with the energy of the crystals she could transfer, focus, and direct energy, or chakra, within a person's body. This being a practice that you didn't see or hear of too often resulted in some of the villagers' fear of her mother and usually nasty rumors such as calling her a witch. It was cruel and maybe a little on the naïve side, but Takeuchi knew her mother was strong and that none of that would ever defeat her. Takeuchi's father, who used to be in the military, but was discharged because of his outrageous temper, was now a farmer specializing in the growing of larger vegetables like pumpkins and squash; he also owned an old mule that he used to help him plow. The village where they lived as a family was one of penury, so most of the villagers grew crops, raised livestock, or both; very few of the villaging families grew herbs for medicine that they would sell to the nearby towns. If the families were really lucky, they would be able to sell their medicine for money and perhaps a half a load of bread. They lived in Hokkaido._

_Takeuchi lived in the same village as Okita Soji since they were both very little and they played together often, so naturally, they were very close. Although Okita was two years older than her, she was usually the one who acted like the mature older sister and tried to keep him in line more often than not. It was strange, and to this day she still doesn't understand it, but Okita had (and still has) a certain fondness for pigs and piglets, and whenever Takeuchi was unable to find her friend, the next place she went to look was the pig pens on a nearby farm where she always found Okita rolling around in the mud with the swines. Sometimes she questioned whether he wasn't really a toddler in an older kid's body._

_The same year of her fourth birthday, Takeuchi fell terribly ill with a high fever, accompanied by both long and short bouts of coughing, fatigue, and shortness of breath. Her mother and father called for the aid of a nearby physician who concluded that she was showing early but clear signs of tuberculosis, then known as consumption. The doctor's prognosis had been grim, stating that Takeuchi had two years at the most, and as the months dragged on, it seemed that the doctor would be right. During her time of illness, Okita was not allowed to play with or even visit his friend for fear that he would catch the disease. Then, a little over a year later, Takeuchi's health took a turn for the better. Her energy returned and her coughing spells came less frequently. The doctor said it was a miracle._

_During the months that she had been sick, her mother was often the one who cared for her, while her father continued to work the fields day and night to make up for losing his wife's income while she took care of their ailing daughter. Her mother had used her crystals constantly to help ease her daughter's worst symptoms and in the end, exhausted all her physical and mental strength trying to get Takeuchi well. But Takeuchi was so young at the time that she thought nothing of it when her mother became bedridden with a terrible fever. It was when her mother died a few days later and Takeuchi was five years old that she experienced tragedy for the very first time. Takeuchi had greatly admired her mother and the blow that was her mother's death hit her very hard._

_When Takeuchi's mother died, the attitude of her father changed greatly. After the funeral, her father constantly seemed to be working in the fields, and Takeuchi didn't press the matter because, although she was still young, she figured that that was probably his own way of grieving the loss of his wife. This went on for a few weeks, with neither of them really talking to one another. About a month later, her father's persona seemed to shift once again. He became violent and drank sake frequently. Once, he thrust a sheathed sword in Takeuchi's direction and demanded that she learn how to use it. Takeuchi recognized the sword as one her mother had owned._

_After that, it seemed that Takeuchi was always ordered to learn something new about sword techniques and war tactics. With her father being ex-military, it was only natural that he still retained his knowledge of combat and defense strategies. The few times that he wasn't so drunk, he taught Takeuchi the things he knew about them and swords. The word taught is used lightly, and Takeuchi's father usually yelled and forced her by frightening her into learning said things. As Takeuchi grew older, it seemed that her father's demanding grew as well; he was now very abusive towards his daughter and often beat her for disobeying him. By the age of seven, Takeuchi was learning the basics of fighting with a katana, as well as some of the more advanced military strategies. For a very brief time, Takeuchi was glad to be learning swordsmanship for she knew that Okita had begun training to master Tennen Rishin-ryu at the Shieikan in Edo with the school's adopted son, Kondo Isami. This feeling soon passed. _

_For years Takeuchi lived this way. Eventually, her father stopping farming and did little else but sleep, drink, and beat his daughter. Once when Takeuchi was twelve, her father beat her severely for not knowing the name of the emperor from four generations ago. Due to a broken wrist and mild concussion, she was not able to practice with her mother's katana, and didn't do much other than take naps in between her father asking questions about something that he "taught" her. As she recovered from her injures, her father threatened to move her to the lower level of the house, or the basement, because he was ashamed of being related to someone as weak at her._

_That same year, and when Takeuchi was able to sword practice again, her father did move her. He claimed to have wanted to relocate her for a long time, and as she followed him down the steps to her new home, she noticed the iron shackles on the lower half of the wall. Her father grinned manically when he saw his daughter's perplexed expression. Knowing that he was far stronger than she, Takeuchi's father wrestled her to the ground and attached a manacle around each of her ankles. When her father returned upstairs, he came back only once that day to throw his old military books and his late wife's sword down by his daughter's feet._

_Takeuchi continued to live beneath her house for four more years. Her father came down twice a day to deliver cold food and hot water to her on a tray. He usually beat her if he found her doing something that he didn't approve of, which mostly consisted of her nursing old injuries, or taking small breaks in between sword and arm thrusts. By now, Takeuchi was greatly skilled in the art of swordsmanship and military tactics. Being self-taught in the art of katana-wielding, Takeuchi was by no means a master of any style, but could easily kill her father if given the chance. Unfortunately, her father noticed her skills and afterwards retreated upstairs with the katana._

_One night, as Takeuchi was passing the time by nibbling on a stale piece of bread, she heard her father stumble in after another one of his drunken tiraids. She had heard him upstairs as he told himself that she was a worthless daughter and that he had done right by moving her downstairs. When there was a loud thump upstairs, Takeuchi knew he had passed out. With her now sixteen and many years overdue for leaving the house, she took this one precious moment to escape. She grabbed a large rock that her father often used to beat her with and used it to break the two manacles around her ankles, injuring herself in the process. Painfully, she hobbled up the stairs, stepped over the body of her sleeping father, and frantically searched the house for her mother's sword. Finally finding it stashed behind a dresser, Takeuchi made a run for the door and out into a rainy night in Hokkaido._

_Her first thought was to find Okita in Edo, so she trekked in the general direction she thought was south, unaware that her friend had already left the Shieikan to live out his days serving under Kondo in the city of Kyoto._

º º º

By now it was well into the evening, and while in his room, Okita lied spread-eagle on his back with his straw hat covering his face. Unable to convince Yamazaki that it was the tea that made him sick in the first place, he had been forced to drink another cup. About three hours after the practice session, Okita had thrown up again, but thankfully, this last cup had not made him as sick, but still as miserable nonetheless.

Okita rolled over onto his side and wondered whether he should try to sit up, but the sudden lurch of his stomach told him he had better stay still for just a little longer. He grabbed his straw hat and attempted to balance it upside down on the point. He had it going for a while until a small coughing fit racked his body and the hat fell over on its side. Frustrated, Okita picked up the hat and threw it across the room.

"Okita-san, can I come in?"

Without waiting for a response, Okita's shoji doors slid open revealing Yamazaki, a fresh cup of tea in his hands. As he walked in and sat himself in front of the ailing man, Okita forced a smile on his face in a poor attempt to greet the doctor, and then his face faltered.

"Relax," Yamazaki said, for Okita was eyeing the cup suspiciously. "It's only green tea, and it's mine anyway."

Okita sighed, allowing some time for his stomach to settle. He knew from the way Yamazaki carried himself that he came strictly for business and Okita was determined to find out what he wanted. Now that Yamazaki was a doctor, he wasn't one for keeping secrets, so Okita figured that he could easily get any information out of him that he needed.

When his stomach stopped rolling and he knew it would be safe to open his mouth and keep anything that wasn't words from coming out, he asked bluntly and a little coldly, "Did you come here for any particular reason? I already had a check-up this morning, and since the minute you walked in here, you've looked like there's something on your mind."

Okita hadn't wanted to sound harsh (and failed), but ever since getting sick, the smallest things seemed to irk him, and that included pity on his behalf and frequent visits from people that wanted nothing more than to sit around and make idle chit-chat. He considered himself a monster for having developed these new feelings, and sometimes the thought of seppuku seemed almost inviting. It wasn't that Okita was suicidal, far from it really, but he hated how everything affected and annoyed him that he often felt the need to be punished.

"As you know, you're not getting any better. In fact, your health is deteriorating much faster than it should. Sorry," Yamazaki added when Okita's face fell even further. "Sometimes I forget to consider people's emotions; it comes from my being an ex-ninja. Anyway, like I was saying, your health is not something to be taken lightly, and I was thinking it might be time to move you to a new room."

"You want me to become isolated? Like Takeuchi-san?"

"No, not like that; she shouldn't have been confined like that in the first place," Yamazaki said. "You'll still be within the main compound, but you'll be closer to me--it's for convenience purposes really."

"I thought they were all being used," Okita said. "Is there a room somewhere like that?"

"Not yet, I'm still working with trying to clean it. It's Yaminami-san's old room."

This time Okita sat up quickly, but just as soon regretted doing so for the movement caused him to cough and be sick all at the same time. His hands flew to his mouth, but as he coughed, he didn't know whether to be thankful or disgusted; coughing had overpowered the urge to vomit, so he had ended up swallowing the already digested food instead of actually spitting it back up. Okita gagged once as he swallowed, and then stuck his tongue out to make a ridiculous face.

"It's the tea, isn't it?" Yamazaki asked, looking down at the cup in his hands. For what seemed like no apparent reason, Yamazaki leaned over, stretching his arm out to retrieve the conic-shaped hat that Okita had tossed aside eariler. Once he had it, he absentmindedly began trying to balance it on its point.

Okita nodded vigorously before saying, "What are you going to do with Yaminami-san's things?"

"Well, Kondo-san wants to keep his sword and haori; I think Tatsu-kun is receiving Yamanami-san's books and abaci." Yamazaki took a long sip from his tea before adding, "Akesato is supposed to come by to retrieve some of her things."

It was well-known within the Shinsengumi how Yamazaki felt about Yaminami's lover, but no one really understood why he felt that way towards the geisha-ninja. It had long been debated that it had something to do with the death of Yamazaki's sister.

"So, isolation, huh?" Okita asked. "Is that for the Shinsengumi's sake or just mine?"

"Does it really matter?" Yamazaki retorted, sounding a little irritated. "After I'm finished preparing the room, it will be a lot cleaner with better air for you to breathe."

Okita closed his eyes and nodded slowly. Over the course of their conversation Okita had begun to get very sleepy, and although he wasn't about to say anything to Yamazaki, he really wanted this talk to be over with so that he could take a nap. Unable to hide his tiredness for much longer, Okita covered his mouth as he yawned widely. He really was sleepy.

"Well," Yamazaki said as he stood up to leave. "I just wanted to let you know about the moving situation. Make sure you have all your stuff organized, because once you're moved, I'll need to know where everything is in case you ever need anything from here; I don't think I'll want you to come back to this room after that." Yamazaki sniggered as he watched Okita stifle another yawn. "It looks like that tea's working after all."

"What's in it?" Okita asked. Even his voice sounded tired.

"Opium," Yamazaki said nonchalantly. "It's poppy tea."

"Yamazaki-kun!" Okita cried, and then lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "What are you doing with opium? How did you get it? You know you could get into serious trouble for this!"

Yamazaki rolled his eyes and sat back down in front of Okita. "Stop. How I obtained it should be no concern of yours, and what I'm doing with it--Okita-san, I'm a doctor. Opium is commonly used for treating people. Don't you trust me to do my job?"

"You've been slipping me drugs?" Okita asked, the thought just now occuring to him. His face held a look of awe and disgust.

"You're fine," Yamazaki reassured him. The doses I give you are too small for you to become addicted." He paused, thinking. "Now that I think about it, the opium could be what's causing your stomach to be sick."

Okita only nodded, unable to surpress the thought of Yamazaki smuggling in drugs to use in his practice. He looked over at the doctor skeptically, but let the image fade from his mind as he asked, "You knew I was sick?"

Yamazaki sighed irritably. "Do you honestly think I'm not capable of being a doctor? You left vomit behind a bush after the practice session this morning, and the moment you saw me come in with this drink," here Yamazaki took a sip from his tea and swallowed, "your face paled and you looked like you were going to throw up. Whether or not you think I'm capable, I _am_ a doctor, and I'm required to know the side effects of any medication I give you."

"Then you _knew_ I was going to be nauseous to the point where I just wanted to curl up and die...," Okita said, more as a statement than a question.

"You know," Yamazaki started. "You have this annoying little knack for making things sound worse than they really are. You're a new-time user to opium, so you're going to feel that way for a while; it's one of those gets-worse-before-it-gets-better kind of things. But it's working, isn't it? Your chest pain has dulled and it's making you sleepy so that you can rest, which is something you should be doing anyway."

This time when Okita yawned his reply, Yamazaki stood up and headed for the door. He was sure that by the time he had slid the door shut behind him he could hear Okita snoring softly from inside. Good, Yamazaki thought. He would need to rest as much as possible as the months dragged on and his illness continued to consume him.

º º º

That night Okita had a dream...

_Okita walked along the exterior walkway of the Shinsengumi headquarters, careful to stay under the awning that covered it to avoid the pouring rain. He had been searching for Takeuchi for hours. When he had left her, she had still not awakened. Earlier, she had been brought to the compound badly beaten and unconcious. Once there, Matsumoto had bandaged her wounds and put her in a room to rest where Okita sat with her for hours. Okita had left for an instant to talk with Hijikata on what to do with her and when he returned, she had disappeared. No one had been able to locate her yet._

_In the distance, Okita heard a faint noise. He went in search of it and was shocked at what he found. In an isolated, rarely visited corner of the compound, Takeuchi lie curled in a ball, soaking wet and with a kitten licking her face. Okita quickly went to Takeuchi and bent down to check her condition. Upon closer inspection, Okita noted that the kitten was a rare leopard cat and its meowing had been the source of the noise. He felt Takeuchi's forehead and swiftly pulled his hand back as she moaned softly. She was burning up with fever, yet she was shivering as though it was the dead of winter. He glanced at her ankle to find the bandages soaked in blood. He gently picked her up and with the kitten trailing not far behind, carried her back towards the main compound, failing to notice a small puddle near where her face had been that was tinged with the faintest trace of red._

º º º

_**Author's Note Starts Here...**_

_The format for this chapter was different and a little confusing at times, but it was necessary in order to cover certain things. The next chapter should revert to its normal _non-italic _self, so hooray! :)_

_Does ANYONE know Okita Soji's birthday? I don't even care so much about the actual date, but is there anyone who knows the month? Please, just don't tell me that it's in August, September, October, or November; any other month will be fine. If anyone can tell me this, I promise to love you forever and ever (or maybe just until I finish this fic, but they're fairly equivilant, right?) and...I'll dedicate a chapter to you. SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME._

_Man, Yamazaki sure is playing a helluva bigger role in this fic than I originally planned--secret loversss! Haha; no, just kidding. Besides, if they were a couple, it would definitely be a love-hate relationship (at least from that way I've written them). But no, they're just friends...and will remain that way, I promise._

_Kudos and credit are in order for Hellfire13 for writing the part that I turned into Okita's dream. I didn't even ask her to write anything--she did it all on her own; she's so nice! With her writing that, she really helped me come back from a slight writer's block, so thank her for this update. ºthrows confettiº_

_If you are confused about Okita's reaction to finding out that he's been drinking poppy tea, I suggest you look up "Opium Wars" on Wikipedia. This idea was greatly known by the bakufu, which would explain Okita's concern on the matter..._

_Next chapter: something spreads within the Shinsengumi, and poor Yamazaki just doesn't get a break._


	5. December

Last Time of My Life

_I can count this story as historical, can't I? I know there are some things that I've altered, but isn't that what "historical fiction" is all about? Yeah, I was just wondering. There was really no specific meaning behind my asking..._

_This story now has a companion fic! I've read it and it's really good--but don't take my word for it. Check it out on Hellfire13's bio page. _

º º º

Chapter Five: December

When he woke up his throat was dry and very scratchy. His body temperature felt like it was soaring because he was covered in sticky, hot sweat. He noticed that he had already kicked off his sheets during the night to try to cool himself, but it hadn't seemed to be very effective. Slowly, he pulled off his tabi socks, amazed at how his fever seemed to drop one or two degrees just by letting his feet be touched by the cold winter air. He coughed and winced; his head felt heavy with congestion and sickness.

He coughed again, but this time it came out as a partial wheeze because his throat was so horribly dry. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep because his throat was so sore and scratchy, he decided to get up for a drink. He slid the shoji doors open and stepped out onto the raised deck, first noticing how late it was. He knew his fever was much too high, but the thought of waking anyone up at this hour made him shudder. He walked off the raised deck towards the yard's only well. He took a sip from the ladle, sighing as the water soothed his parched throat. Despite his fever, he knew it was still freezing outside, so he trekked back into his room before he caught pneumonia too.

Coughing a few times more, he buried himself beneath his covers (no matter how much his fuming body protested) and tried to go back to sleep.

º º º

The first thing Okita noticed when he woke up that morning was that he wasn't in his room, but after a moment of looking around, he remembered that late last month, Yamazaki had finished cleaning out Yaminami's old tatami room and that Okita was to move in as soon as possible. He didn't like this room too much. He had already been living there for almost a full month, and yet, it still kind of creeped him out to think that the last place Yaminami slept before committing seppuku was in this very room; sometimes, Okita thought he felt Yaminami's presence looming within the walls.

The next thing he noticed that morning was how unusually quiet it was outside his room within the Shinsengumi headquarters. On any other typical day, Okita would wake to the busy sounds of patrolling officers, bokken or shinai training, or at the very least, little Tetsu running across the raised deck as he frantically scrubbed at the wooden planks. Not really liking the eerie quietness around him, Okita crawled out from under his heavy blanket, ignoring the protests of his aching muscles. He slipped on his tabi and headed for the shoji doors. Sliding them open, he was greeted with the intense wind from that chilly December morning. Shivering slightly, he began to wonder if his fever had broken. Yamazaki met with him last night for another check-up and found that Okita was running another fever, his second one that day.

As Okita made his way across the raised deck his footsteps seemed to echo throughout the compound because of the unusual quietness around him. When he walked past someone's room the sound of the occupant coughing loudly startled him into remembering the Shinsengumi's most recent enemy and predicament. About three weeks ago, the fifth unit returned from a month-long traveling mission to the south in Nara Prefecture. The southern half of the prefecture is almost completely covered with mountains and is known for its frigid winter temperatures. It was mentioned to Yamazaki upon the fifth unit's return that one of their lesser members had fallen very ill during their return march to Kyoto. Yamazaki had begun to treat the man, but by the end of the week, he began taking care of the rest of the fifth unit who--at the time--were also showing similar symptoms. Now, weeks later, just under half of the entire Shinsengumi was suffering from mild to severe colds; some of the cases even turned into the flu because of weakened immune systems. Maybe it was a little sadistic of him, but Okita was kind of glad that he wasn't the only one sick anymore.

He continued to walk around the compound, turning the final corner that led him to his destination. He sat himself at the edge of the raised deck with his covered feet dangling off the sides, and began to wait. Within a few minutes, Okita heard the distinctive grunting and when he looked down, he was met with the beady eyes of Saizou the pig. Okita leaned over and stretched out his arms, scooping the animal in for an embrace.

"Good morning, Saizou," he said, smiling as he held the pig arm's-length away from his face. "I've missed coming to visit you."

Saizou nodded his agreement and wiggled in his owner's grasp. Okita laughed and brought the pig in for another hug.

"I'm glad you're not sick," Okita said, placing Saizou in his lap and stroking his head. "It's such a miserable feeling."

Saizou noticed the sadness in Okita's voice and nudged his hand with his snout. He continued to do this until Okita looked down at him and smiled.

"You're such a good little pig."

After this they sat in silence with Okita continuing to pet Saizou's head. Call it an animal's intuition, but Saizou could tell that something was bothering the first unit captain, but unable to voice his concern, he remained in Okita's lap, brooding. Unsure of how long they remained like this, Saizou was soon startled when Okita stopped petting him and began coughing. He jumped off Okita's lap and onto the raised deck beside him. As he watched Okita begin to recover from his short coughing spell, he started to pace frantically beside him. He was anxious and Okita being sick scared him.

"I'm okay," Okita said a short while later. He sounded like he was having difficulty catching his breath.

When Okita had completely stopped coughing and was able to breathe again, he turned to Saizou and smiled weakly. He held out his arms to his pet, but the pig just eyed him warily. Okita's small smile faltered and he turned to look out across the compound.

"You're really lucky, Saizou," he whispered.

"Are you drowning in self-pity again?" asked a voice from behind Okita.

Okita turned back to where Saizou was standing and saw that Takeuchi was sitting not too far away, her cat Hotaru nestled neatly in her lap. Takeuchi looked up at Okita, forcing him to look down when he no longer felt comfortable under her penetrating gaze. He ran his fingers over the creases in his kimono, unsure of whether or how to answer the question.

"Amae-chan," he said finally. He rarely used that name anymore; it was something he always used when they were little. "I think I may be dying."

It was a while before Takeuchi said anything as she thought how best to handle the situation. Then, she said, "We're all dying, eventually."

"I mean it," Okita said sternly; he looked up at Takeuchi, a slight frown on his face. "I didn't want to believe it at first, but I think Yamazaki-kun might be right."

Takeuchi grabbed her cat, walked over to Okita and sat beside him. She brushed Hotaru's spotted fur with her fingertips, listening as the cat purred its delight.

"What made you think about this so suddenly?" she asked.

Okita sighed. "I don't know. I just--"

"Um, excuse me. Okita-san?"

The two tuberculosis-stricken Shinsengumi members looked back towards the sound of the new voice. Tatsunosuke peered around the corner of one of the compound's walls looking slightly embarrassed, a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. He bowed at the waist before speaking.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said apologetically. "But Yamazaki-san's looking for you, Okita-san."

Okita stood up to follow Tatsu, but the sound of coughing behind him caused him to stop and look back. It was Takeuchi and her small petite form was just ceasing its coughing. Okita smiled sadly.

"You should get inside before you catch something else," he said to her. "Goodbye, Saizou."

When Tatsu walked back into his room, Okita continued across the raised deck towards his new room beside Yamazaki's. Although it was probable that another half hour had passed since Okita had first left his room, the Shinsengumi headquarters was still pretty much deserted of any sounds other than the occasional coughing or sneezing from some of the cold-stricken members.

Okita took the long way back to Yamazaki's room; instead of taking a left just past Tatsu's room, he decided to take a right, which would lead him around a majority of the compound and eventually to Yamazaki. As he walked, he thought about what Takeuchi had asked him. Why _had_ he started talking like that? There hadn't been anything around him that would have reminded him of how sick he was; he coughed so often that he tended to exclude that from his list of "miserable-making symptoms". He sighed, brushing it off. He was going to die eventually, that much he did know, so he figured that there wasn't really a need for him to act all mopey.

As he passed his old tatami room and then Hijikata's, Okita stopped to look out into the open courtyard. It was completely empty. This wasn't too unusual; it was an early morning in late December, so most members were either still sleeping or staying in their rooms where it was warm. Okita was definitely a morning person and actually found it quite peaceful when he could sit outside his room as he waited for others to awake. He thought about doing just that before he remembered that Yamazaki was the one waiting for him.

He continued his walk, but stopped again after a few short steps. Again, he looked out across the courtyard. It was desolate of snow, which he found a little strange. Okita shivered as a slight breeze swept across the raised deck; he knew it was plenty cold for snow. It was cloudy, so there was always a chance that it was going to snow later, but Okita just found it odd that it was almost January and still there was nothing. He shrugged and resumed his journey.

Eventually, Okita made it all the way around Headquarters and back to Yamazaki's room. He paused before going in, listening for sounds that suggested that someone was actually inside. He sighed when he heard nothing. Of course, Yamazaki used to be one of the Shinsengumi's top spies; it wasn't unusual for him to be less than humanly quiet. Okita tapped lightly on the doorframe. This time, he thought he heard what sounded like a feeble agitated moan.

Okita heard some movement inside, but did not dare walk in before the occupant said, "Come in."

When he was finally invited in, he slid the shoji panel open, and actually had to take a step back as the strong fragrances of lavender and chamomile drifted out and over-powered his sense of smell. As Yamazaki slid a paper mask over his mouth and nose, Okita looked past him and saw the two separate sticks of incense burning in the corner. While still standing at the open doorway, Okita took a big whiff of the incense, sighing pleasurably as the aromas both soothed and relaxed him almost to the point of sleep.

Only when Yamazaki had secured the mask by pulling the strings behind his ears did Okita step in and slide the door shut behind him. He took cautious steps towards the doctor, unsure of what to think about the mask. He knew he was becoming more contagious as the months dragged on, but was Yamazaki so afraid of catching something that he needed to wear a mask? The thought of this hurt Okita a little bit.

"You wanted to see me?" Okita asked timidly.

"Your check-up," was all he said.

Although Yamazaki's words were muffled behind the mask, Okita thought he sounded a little hoarse, and he couldn't stop himself from asking the first thing that came to mind. "Are you...sick, Yamazaki-kun?"

"Isn't everyone around here?" Yamazaki retorted snappishly. He doubled over and started coughing.

Okita noted that although Yamazaki sounded bad, his coughs were no where near as horrible as his own. Taking into account that Yamazaki was sick, in a bad mood, or both, Okita said nothing as he turned his back to the doctor in preparation for his check-up. He shuddered when he felt Yamazaki's hands on the back of his neck as he checked for swollen nodes below his ears. After Yamazaki had listened to Okita's lungs, he instructed him to turn around so he could check the dilation of his eyes and for any signs of fever.

"How is everyone else doing?" Okita asked. "Anyone showing any signs of kicking their cold?"

He always felt the need to talk to Yamazaki whenever his eyes were being checked. Due to the poor lighting, Yamazaki usually took several seconds staring into Okita's eyes, which made him more than just a little uncomfortable. Okita figured that if he could take his mind off it by talking about something else, hopefully it wouldn't seem to take so long.

"Yes and no," Yamazaki said. Okita was glad to hear that the doctor didn't sound so irritable anymore. "I had to confine Tetsu-kun to strict bed rest (something I should be doing with you), and Hijikata just came to see me complaining of a sore throat, which is how everyone else got started."

"And you?"

"I've had better days," Yamazaki said. Just then, he turned his head to the side and sneezed.

Yamazaki placed a hand on Okita's forehead and put his other hand against his own cheek. Okita waited patiently as the doctor compared their temperatures to see whether he had a fever. He jumped when Yamazaki cursed loudly and slammed his fist against the tatami mats.

"What's wrong?" he asked. When Yamazaki said nothing but continued to stare at the tatami sulkily, a sudden thought occurred to him. "_You_ have a fever. I thought your hands felt a little warm."

He looked at Yamazaki, studying him carefully. Yamazaki's face was pale, but his cheeks held red blotches that suggested fever. His eyes were sunken and blood-shot from lack of sleep. He was definitely sick and probably caught something from one of the members that he had been treating.

Yamazaki sighed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Today was not a good day for him. Besides his getting sick, he had wanted to speak with Kondo today about his still undecided fate, but now that he was sick, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his futon and sleep; he wondered if this was how Okita felt on his off days. He had not told Okita about his plans to meet with Kondo for fear that the first unit captain would overreact like he always did. Despite his outward appearance, Yamazaki was a very caring individual and felt that if he said anything to Okita that happened to stress him out, he was ultimately doing harm to his patient, which was definitely going against his job description.

"Yeah, and I'm sure I'll get better as the weather gets colder," Yamazaki huffed.

"Oh, that reminds me!"

"Please don't yell," Yamazaki said through gritted teeth. "My head already feels like it's splitting."

"I'm sorry," Okita said drastically lowering his voice. "But you reminded me that Hijikata-san and some of the other members are going to a nearby shrine tomorrow; you know, to beat the crowds. I was wondering if I could go with them."

"You're asking me?" Yamazaki asked, raising his eyebrow.

"You are my physician," Okita said matter of factly. "I didn't want you to get in trouble if...well, let's say if something were to happen to me."

Yamazaki rolled his eyes and smirked. "That's what this was about; you're so hopeless, Okita. If you're going tomorrow, then I don't see a problem with it. There shouldn't be that many people going this early, so it's not like I'm putting your health into too much jeopardy."

"Why don't you come with us, Yamazaki-kun?" Okita was beaming, which greatly showed his gratitude.

"Are you kidding me? As soon as you walk out of this room, I'm going to bed," Yamazaki said. He coughed once and then groaned dramatically. "I didn't get much sleep last night because I kept on coughing--I don't know how you can stand it. Kondo-san wants me to check on everyone tomorrow morning, and I plan on sleeping until then."

"Right, how are things going with him? Has he talked to you lately?"

"Yes, we've spoken. But it's a little complicated and I'd rather not talk about it."

Okita smiled and nodded. He was glad Yamazaki was able to talk to Kondo; now if only he could muster up the courage to do the same. Kondo was upset with him for hiding such a secret as his own health, and Okita wasn't sure how long it would take until he could be trusted again. He was far from blaming Kondo though. He took in a deep breath, savoring the scents of lavender and chamomile; they really worked at putting his mind at ease.

After thanking Yamazaki for agreeing to let him go out with the others, Okita bid him a get well and a goodbye. Yamazaki coughed his reply and removed his paper mask as Okita stepped out the door. Okita frowned upon finding the courtyard still desolate of people and snow. He knew today was going to be a long and boring day. He took a few steps over to his room and lied on his futon beneath his thick blanket. As he tried to close his eyes to take a nap, he heard Yamazaki sneeze over in the next room.

º º º

The next morning at the shrine, Okita was accompanied by Hijikata, Takeuchi, Matsumoto, Saito, and Shinpachi. It had snowed overnight, so as Okita was getting ready to leave with the others, he was stopped by a still tired and ill-feeling Yamazaki and asked to rethink his little adventure to the shrine. That was how Matsumoto had been dragged along. Yamazaki claimed that he had work to do around Headquarters and that he wasn't really in the mood to go anywhere. He asked Matsumoto to go in his place, and since Takeuchi was already planning on going, Matsumoto had no way to refuse.

Their trek up to the shrine had not been a pleasant one for Okita. As they continued to climb up the seemingly endless flight of stairs, Okita began to replay Yamazaki's plea for him to stay at Headquarters over in his head--now he wished he would have listened. The cold weather was not helping his condition any, and his coughing worsened from deep, throaty sounds almost to point where he was practically dry heaving. Takeuchi also seemed to have it rough. They had already stopped a few times to allow her time to catch her breath, and when asked by Matsumoto if they wanted to head back to the compound, neither Okita nor Takeuchi wanted to. It was like neither of them wanted to admit that coming out today was a bad idea.

When they reached the top of the stairs where the land became level again, Saito and Shinpachi went over to deliver their offering of seven kagami mochi to the god or goddess of the shrine. They each gave their prayers, said their wish, and proceeded with ringing the large bell.

"Who's next?" Shinpachi asked, turning away from the shrine.

"We'll go," Okita said, stepping forward.

Okita grabbed Takeuchi's hand and pulled her forward. Together they made their way towards the shrine. Saito and Shinpachi had been the only ones to bring any sustenance to give as an offering, so instead, Okita and Takeuchi closed their eyes and offered their prayers to the deity.

"What are you going to wish for?" Okita asked, panting a little. It was so cold that his diseased lungs had to work hard just so they could do what they did normally.

"I can't tell you," Takeuchi said, cracking an eye open and looking at Okita skeptically. She sounded just as breathless as he did. "Then it won't come true."

Okita laughed, but winced as he felt his chest constrict painfully. He coughed once to see if that loosened it; when he it didn't, he coughed again. He didn't want to admit it out loud because he knew he would never hear the end of it from Yamazaki, but he wanted to leave. He usually enjoyed the snow, but today it didn't give him that same feeling of happiness. In fact, the snow was making him miserable. He began to wonder if Takeuchi felt the same way as he did; she was really good at hiding it if she did.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said. "Let's head back now."

"Wow, Soji, that was fast," Takeuchi said. "Did you already make your wish?"

"Amae-chan," Okita pleaded with her.

Takeuchi turned to Okita and studied his face. The pain he was trying so desperately to mask was clearly visible in his eyes; even when they were younger, Okita had never been very good at hiding his emotions. She watched as he rubbed his hands together and the coughed into them. She immediately understood what was wrong with him. Having lived with the disease for so many years, Takeuchi sometimes _forgot_ how different elements affected it. In her case, it was the rain that usually led to an attack, and apparently for Okita, it was the cold weather that made him uncomfortable.

"What about Hijikata-san and Matsumoto-san?" Saito asked.

Beside him, Matsumoto laughed heartily. "We doctors only pray that we are able to save the ones dear to us. There's no need for me to talk to a god to make sure my prayers are answered."

As soon as they had all left Shinsengumi Headquarters, Hijikata had been watching Okita closely. He had seen how the lower climate had affected the first unit captain and he seemed to grow worse with each minute spent outside. Okita was so dense and strong-spirited that Hijikata knew he would never admit to feeling the way he was. Hijikata then remembered that it was he who had made sure that Okita was examined by Yamazaki because the young captain had tried to act like he was only suffering from a cold.

Hijikata took a few steps towards the shrine. He grabbed a few coins from his pocket and tossed them into the shrine as an offering.

"I'm ready," he said.

Although he was now shivering, Okita was able to nod his thanks to Hijikata. The vice-commander was one of the only people who really understood him and for that he was glad. He followed Takeuchi back to the others and together the six of them headed back down the huge flight of stairs and towards the Shinsengumi.

º º º

_Random factoid: this chapter was ALMOST the shortest so far, but it beat chapter one by 825 words. Go figure._

_Well, since this IS a (semi-)historical story, I guess that means that as of next chapter, I had better start sticking to a timeline. Luckily for all you readers, I've already got the rest of this story planned out; it's in outline format and everything. Hooray for me being way too over-prepared!_

_I've learned something during the time it's taken me to finish this chapter: never take a shower with "sleep enhancing lavender and chamomile body wash" and expect to drive normally just thirty minutes later, because that will not happen. Who knew that stuff actually made you sleepy?_

_So, again with all the Yamazaki. He's starting to take over a little bit... I know, I'm sorry! I just want to fit him in as much as possible before the end of the next chapter. Don't worry, this story is still Okita-centric and will be that way until the bitter end._

_Next chapter: more conflict with the Choshu leads to the Shinsengumi's possibility of going to war._


	6. January

Last Time of My Life

_Goal: to make this the shortest chapter thus far. Don't ask me why I want a short chapter; if anything, you would think I want LONGER chapters...It's probably just a silly phase._

_You know, ever since seeing the Death Note movie, I get these random cravings for apples. Stupid shinigami. Stupid Light-kun._

º º º

Chapter Six: January

Okita coughed once more and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked down at the puddle he had created. It wasn't red with blood, but had a brownish tint and was sort of lumpy and gooey. The stench made him gag and he covered his mouth to stop himself from doing it again. This time when he coughed he had hoped to ignore the disgusting after-taste, but it was worse than ever and the sensation made him sick to his stomach all over again. He hadn't been able to keep anything down for days.

His lack of food intake was starting to show, too. Okita had always had a small stature, but now he was beginning to look a little emaciated. He didn't particularly like the idea or feeling of throwing up, and when he starting skipping one or two meals a day, some members of the Shinsengumi began to grow concerned. Okita didn't seem to mind that he was starving himself either. He kept telling himself that the thought of spewing vomit all over the place had a weird kind of effect on his stomach that rarely made him hungry, or if at all.

"Here," Yamazaki said to him one day. He placed a small plate laden with three apple slices in front of him.

"No, thank you," Okita said as he pushed the plate away from him. "Yamazaki-kun, please stop trying to force me to eat."

Yamazaki's exasperated sigh was followed by a few short coughs. He was still not completely over his cold. "I'm just doing my job, Okita, and that's to keep you as healthy as possible."

As of late, Okita's and Yamazaki's relationship as patient-doctor had stabilized to just that. If the two had been anywhere remotely close to being friends before, they certainly weren't that now. Neither of them really understood what changed between them to make them act as such, but now they were almost downright snippy with one another. But sometimes it was funny when they tried to act polite towards the other one; their tones usually gave them away though. Some of the Shinsengumi's members tried to blame their newfound attitudes on Okita's obviously stressful illness. It was true that he wasn't getting any better, but sometimes it was hard to tell whether he was actually getting worse. The times he coughed were just a sliver under constant as were the number of temperatures he ran daily, but despite all that, Okita still felt obligated to participate in all Shinsengumi activities, whatever they may be.

"You have an officer's meeting to attend. Take them," Yamazaki added. He handed a tiny satchel over to Okita in which he had placed the apple slices. "I promise you'll get hungry later."

Not really sure how Yamazaki had figured that one out, Okita shrugged and grabbed the satchel from him. He stashed it inside his left kimono sleeve for later. Having completely forgotten about the meeting that Kondo had told them about not three days before, Okita professed his gratitude to the doctor and left the room. He walked across the raised deck towards Kondo's room, which was where their meetings were usually held. He sighed when he thought about what he was going to have to do. Because he still hadn't manned-up enough to talk to Kondo in previous months, Okita decided last month at the shrine that he would after their next meeting. Part of his wish was that he didn't mess up and lose his thoughts completely. He was actually glad to be setting things straight with the commander for he had gone far too long playing this childish game. Kondo was upset with him for lying, so it was about time that Okita fixed his mistake.

When Okita reached Kondo's room he realized that the one good thing about being moved into Yaminami's room was that he was now much closer to Kondo's so it didn't put that much of a strain on his tired body when he went over for things like meetings. He coughed as he entered the room and bowed once his eyes met the commander's. He sat to the left of Kondo in between Hijikata and Shinpachi. It had become somewhat of a habit for the captains to all sit in numerical order and to make a circle so that Kondo was at the head of it. Okita coughed again as the meeting got underway.

Okita shuddered suddenly as the shoji was slid open behind him. He turned back over his shoulder and saw Takeuchi standing in the open doorway, panting. She apologized for being late and took her seat across from Okita and directly at Kondo's right. It took Okita a moment to remember why she was even here since the last time she attended a meeting was before her isolation many months ago; it was because she had been schooled in the art of war and military tactics that both Kondo and Hijikata respected her views even though she was not of captain rank. Okita smiled in Takeuchi's direction, doubling over in a coughing fit soon after because of the cold air that had leaked in when Takeuchi had entered. Kondo stopped the meeting to allow Okita time to compose himself, and continued when Okita nodded his reassurance.

After that Okita found the meeting long and dull. He tried to tune out anything that didn't directly apply to him or the Shinsengumi as a whole. Very few points that were made ever caught his attention, but so far today's entire meeting seemed like such a waste of time. Kondo typically went over the Shinsengumi's budget or any new regulations that had been put into play per Matsudaira Katamori. These were always posted later for the rest of the members to see so Okita didn't understand why they always went about these things separately from the others.

"I know I've mentioned this to some of you already, but for those still unaware, all able Shinsengumi members will accompany me to Fushimi within a fortnight," Kondo said. "Tokugawa-sama stepped down as Shogun mere months ago, but because he still feels threatened by the Choshu and Satsuma, he has spoken with Katamori-sama and they have agreed to have us stationed at Fushimi in case of an attack."

Here, Kondo looked at Okita, whose full attention was now reserved for the meeting alone. Okita noticed that Kondo's expression towards him was softer, almost paternal, and he couldn't help but think what the commander had in store for him. Okita wondered if Kondo planned on keeping him in Kyoto because of his illness. His eyes shifted to Takeuchi; surely she would get the same treatment and be required to stay behind as well.

Realizing that a half-hour had already passed since the start of the meeting, and that Kondo had obviously meant to end on that note, the captains began to file out of the room. Kondo stepped out too, and said he would return with tea. Hijikata, who always remained after the meetings to talk things over with the commander (it was habit, really), remained seated, but turned to Okita who continued to sit beside him. Turning his eyes back to the front, Hijikata realized that Takeuchi was also still seated.

"What do you two want?" he asked, although not rudely. "If you hadn't noticed, the meeting's over."

"I want to speak with the commander," the two said in unison.

Okita looked at Takeuchi and chuckled softly. She was probably staying behind to discuss the same thing he was, which was whether he qualified as an 'able member.' He also wanted to apologize to Kondo about his lies from months prior.

When Kondo returned he was surprised to find three people waiting for him instead of the usual one. He apologized for only having tea for him and Hijikata and then courteously asked if the other two wished to speak with him. They fervently agreed that they did. Although Okita had not wanted to go first, he watched miserably as Takeuchi stepped out onto the raised deck with Hijikata to allow him and Kondo some privacy.

"What is it, Soji?" Kondo asked seriously when the others were gone.

Okita, who had already been sitting on his knees, bowed so low to the ground that his nose was mere centimeters from the tatami mats below him. He remained this way for several seconds in hopes that Kondo would see how deeply he respected him and how truly sorry he was.

"Please accept my most humble apology, Kondo-sensei," Okita said, still bent over in a low bow. Somehow, it felt so natural to use the old honorific. "for denying you the results of my medical exam and for asking Yamazaki-kun to do the same. I beg of you," here, Okita lowered himself even further, "do not punish him for something that I asked him to do. Nor Hijikata-san or Amae-chan--"

"Stop." Okita turned his eyes skyward to look up at the commander. "You're making a fool of yourself; sit up. Up until now, did you really think I still resented you for lying?"

"Up until...does that mean you don't anymore?" Okita asked, puzzled.

Kondo laughed heartily. "Of course not! I could never stay mad at you. As for the others, I've decided to drop the matter completely."

"But you've been ignoring me for ages!" Okita proclaimed. Kondo surely couldn't justify that.

"I'm sorry," Kondo said still smiling. "I've been so caught up with this thing in Fushimi that I didn't even notice. Soji, please don't think of me badly."

"No, never," Okita whispered. "But Kondo-sensei, please, let me accompany you to Fushimi. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you and I couldn't be there."

Kondo looked at Okita's pleading face. "How can I say no to you? It wouldn't be the same without you; but promise me you'll be careful out there."

Okita nodded slowly. He felt stupid for ever thinking Kondo could stay mad at him, and for not realizing that he would be forgiven so easily. And now he didn't have to worry about the fates of Yamazaki and the others because Kondo was just going to forget the whole thing ever happened. He let out a little sigh as his body shuddered. This feeling of relief was so overwhelming that it kind of felt like he was in shock.

Bowing low again, Okita expressed his gratitude and left the room, but not before receiving a bear-hug of an embrace from the commander. It was a gesture he really needed right now and Okita could feel his body start to relax in the other man's arms. Once he stepped outside the room, he nodded to Takeuchi and slid the shoji closed after she entered. He heard Kondo's voice from inside the room and immediately sank to his knees beside Hijikata who was enjoying a smoke from his pipe.

"I take it everything went well?" Hijikata said as he blew out a long stream of smoke.

Okita opened his mouth to reply, but only managed to nod his head again. He took a few deep breaths to try to compose himself, and it started to work. Remembering what Yamazaki said earlier, Okita realized that he had worked up a little bit of an appetite, something he hadn't had in the past few days. Coughing quietly, Okita reached into his left kimono sleeve and pulled out the small satchel of apple slices. He removed a slice from the bag, slightly brown and rotten-looking because of its over-exposure to oxygen, and took a bite. He found the fruity sweet taste very delicious.

"We leave for Fushimi in a fortnight," Hijikata reminded him, a small smirk playing on his lips.

º º º

Okita tripped over the body of a fallen comrade. His concentration was not where it should have been so he was barely paying attention to what he was doing. His body was exhausted and he was burning up underneath his uniform. He blocked a frontal attack and side-stepped a Choshu warrior, beheading him instantly with a back slash of his sword. He staggered from the force of his own attack, watching as the decapitated body collapsed beside him. The chainmail shirt he wore beneath his kimono and haori seemed twice as heavy to his weakened body.

He could hear Kondo and Hijikata fighting Choshu defensives somewhere nearby. Okita wanted to retreat, to take a breather and relax for a moment; but that was against Shinsengumi regulations and punishable by seppuku. He could feel his chest tightening as his lungs struggled to contract a breath, which in turn initiated a sudden coughing fit. He started to feel faint from the coughing and collapsed to one knee. As he fell, he saw the _sonno joi_ supporter who had snuck up beside him, and he realized that his falling had just saved him from getting his throat slit. Okita had been so startled by the Choshu's presence that the fact that he was no longer coughing escaped him completely, and he leaned back to block the other man's katana with his own.

This man was by far a bigger man than Okita and Okita's arms began to shake as it was made clear that his diminished strength was no match for this other man's. Okita bit his lower lip as he tried to force the man away from him, but he still felt faint and the sweat that ran down his temples blurred his vision. Suddenly another sword pierced the man from behind causing Okita to fall backwards to avoid the fallen Choshu and his sword. Hijikata stood where Okita's attacker once stood, flicking his blade to remove the blood. His face was serious as he stared down at Okita.

"Get up."

Slightly dazed, Okita looked up at Hijikata and remained where he sat. Although he wanted to comply, his body was completely unresponsive; his mind was clouded with fatigue and he didn't know if he would be able to move anyway.

Hijikata continued to stare down at Okita and when he failed to move, Hijikata sighed and extended his hand. Okita reached for it and was pulled to his feet. The movement caused him to remember how hot and horrible he felt. Hijikata steadied Okita and together they walked towards the medical tent where Yamazaki was staying. When Okita realized where they were headed, he looked up at Hijikata, confused and a little frenzied.

"Where are you going? We can't leave the battle; it's against regulations!"

"Calm down," Hijikata said, his eyes trained in front of him. "It's not like you're leaving the battle because you're a coward--you're sick."

"But what about you?"

Hijikata ignored Okita's question and kept walking. He turned his head over his shoulder, shouting, "Kondo!"

"Should you really be announcing your position like that, Hijikata-san? You'll distract Kondo-san, too," Okita added, frowning.

"We've already cleared out most of the area. No, the battle isn't over yet," Hijikata added when Okita looked like he wanted to ask. "Most of the units are returning to base to recuperate."

Okita turned his attention back to the tent before him. It looked like it was still so far away, but within the next minute both he and Hijikata were walking in through the flapped entrance. Yamazaki was inside frantically tending to the injured. Some of their members had been badly wounded, whereas others had only a scratch or two. The doctor turned his attention to the front when he heard Okita cough pitifully.

"Put him over there," Yamazaki instructed, pointing in a general direction. He was too distracted with his work right now to be specific.

As Yamazaki got back to cleaning and dressing wounds, Hijikata helped Okita shuffle his way over towards an unoccupied cot. After he handed his katana and wakizashi to Hijikata to be placed on the floor, Okita climbed up, stretching his body until he was fully lying down. He shut his eyes and sighed. He felt a rush of cool air and when he cracked open his eyes, he saw little Tetsu fanning him timidly. Tetsu had been brought along, not to fight, but to help Yamazaki serve the needy.

Kondo barged in soon after, sheathing his sword as he entered the tent. He quickly made his way over to Okita and Hijikata, a worried frown upon his face. Okita noticed that Kondo was covered in blood, but was glad when none of it appeared to be his.

"Soji...?"

"I'm okay," Okita said, trying to sound convincing. The fact was, he still felt very warm and at one point was almost tempted to grab the fan from Tetsu and start using it on himself.

"What's the damage?" Hijikata asked, turning to Kondo.

Kondo's frown deepened. "Todo-kun's still out counting casualties with the rest of the eighth unit. Choshu's has to be well over three hundred."

Okita watched as Yamazaki slowly made his way over to them. He looked exhausted. The Shinsengumi had already been at battle for a few hours, and Okita was sure that Yamazaki was doing the same amount of work as Kondo and Hijikata, if not more than, just by taking care of injured soldiers.

"Can you sit up for me?" Yamazaki asked as he stepped in between Hijikata and Tetsu.

When Okita did what he was asked and sat up, he immediately had to shut his eyes to stop the room from spinning. He opened them again when he felt a cool hand on his forehead; he saw Yamazaki place his free hand on his own forehead to compare temperatures. Yamazaki removed his hands and tilted Okita's chin skyward so that Okita was forced to look up at the doctor. Yamazaki stared into his eyes for a few seconds, and then finally pulled back and sighed.

"How is he?" Kondo asked.

"He doesn't have a fever; he just got a little overheated." Yamazaki turned to Okita and added, "You should probably take off some of those layers, but don't forget it's still January and you don't want to worsen your already existing condition. I'll bring you some water and a couple of wet towels."

"Where's Amaterasu?" Okita asked.

Okita never liked using his friend's given name in front of the others (he always wanted to show respect and formality), but he had let this one slip unconsciously. He had thought something (or rather, someone) was missing when he walked into the tent with Hijikata earlier, but at the time he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was just now that he realized that Takeuchi, who was taking turns helping Yamazaki and fighting the Choshu, was missing. The last Okita heard, she was supposed to have been healing the injured with her crystals because, like him, Kondo had allowed her to join the rest of the Shinsengumi to Fushimi.

"She wanted to help count casualties," Yamazaki said over his shoulder, "so she's out there now with Todo-san."

As Yamazaki walked away, Okita removed his haori, took his kimono off his shoulders and rolled it down to his waist. When he began to have difficulty removing his chainmail shirt, Hijikata told him to lift his arms and helped him slip it over his head. Then, Okita collapsed back on the cot only to be told to sit back up when Yamazaki returned with his things. Okita used one of the towels to wipe his face of sweat, dirt, and blood, and then had the second towel placed on the back of his neck. He was advised by Yamazaki not to finish his water in one gulp for there was always the chance that he might get nauseous if he did.

Yamazaki swept his eyes around the tent to see if anyone else needed his attention. When no one did, he hopped up onto the cot beside Okita. He yawned loudly, his eyes starting to droop.

"I need a nap," he said finally.

Kondo chuckled softly, but did not object. Okita watched as Yamazaki lied down on the cot and turned on his side so that his back was facing them. When Tetsu saw this, he plopped himself on the ground beside Hijikata's feet.

"Soji, you should rest too," Hijikata said quietly to Okita, taking into account that the tired Yamazaki was just behind them.

"No, I think I'll be okay," he said, smiling.

Okita took a small sip of water, but as the liquid trickled down his throat, there was another sudden onset of coughing. These were worse than the ones earlier (he figured it was because he was half-naked in frigid winter temperatures) and this time there was no Choshu enemy nearby to scare his coughs away. It had been a few weeks since he had last coughed this bad, and he tried to ignore the frantic cries of the others as he tried to regain his composure. Soon, he tasted that none-too-familiar-yet-always-recognizable coppery taste in his mouth, which left his mouth feeling so dry almost to the point where he thought his salivary glands stopped secreting altogether. When he began felling lightheaded from lack of oxygen, he tried to calm himself, because he was sure his anxiety wasn't helping him any. Finally, he calmed himself to the point where he was able to get in a few quick breaths in between coughs; after that his coughing began to cease.

He took a sizeable drink of water in hopes of relieving his mouth of that disgusting taste of metal. He looked down at his hands as they started to shake and frowned when he saw a few sprinkles of blood on his palms. He wiped them on his kimono before anyone noticed. Beside him Kondo sighed.

"Soji," he started seriously. "I'm sending you back to Kyoto. You're in no condition to be anywhere but in bed resting, and I know you won't do that unless you're forced away from the battlefield and sent back to Headquarters."

"I'm fine, really!" Okita cried, the thought of leaving everyone behind at such a dangerous time while he was at home resting making him more than a little frantic. "I _won't_ leave you, Kondo-san. And what about the Choshu? You'll need everyone you can get to help defeat them."

"But you're sick almost to the point where you've become useless," Hijikata said.

To Okita, Hijikata's words were like a slap in the face, and they burned him. He could think of nothing to retort as he stared up at the Shinsengumi's two top members dumbfounded.

"Toshi!" Kondo scolded. "Soji, look; in a way, Toshi's right--although I would have found a better way of putting it. The Choshu's a strong opponent, they always have been; I'm sure that if I kept you here and you didn't die of your wounds, you'd definitely die from disease." Kondo placed a hand on Okita's shoulder and smiled solemnly. "You've always been obedient towards me, but this time I'm worried the rebellious phase that you never went through as a teenager is finally starting to surface. For that reason, I think there's only one way to make certain that you'll listen. I'm sorry, Soji, but you're returning to Kyoto tomorrow and _that is an order_."

º º º

_I do not offer history lessons. If you don't understand something referenced above (i.e., Tokugawa Yoshinobu and Battle of Toba-Fushimi), I suggest you do some quick research on your own to become more familiar with the concept. This will not go away. If anything, the Shinsengumi's participation in the Boshin War will become more evident in future chapters. Rawr. :D_

_Also, I don't know what Okita's vomitting at the beginning had to do with anything, but I figured it was a good attention-getter. Think of it as a semi-filler paragraph. Oh, and I want to apologize about a really small section in this chapter. I feel that it's not my best, but I have decided to keep it anyway. I think what happened is that I forced myself to write when I really wasn't in the mood. Again, I'm sorry; I'll try not to do that again._

_Uh-oh. I've gotten back into Fullmetal Alchemist again, which means that I've got story ideas. Now, why did I say "uh-oh"? Because that means all my focus will be on Royai and not on Okita. So, since I don't wanna lose any of my FMA ideas, I'm going to try to work on this story and "Dude" at the same time. Hopefully, that won't hinder updates too much and I can still continue to push out chapters at least once a month. Wish me luck!_

_Random factoid: this chapter was actually the fourth longest, beating out chapter five by twenty-three words. Gah!_

_Next chapter: he managed to escape by swimming through the blood-tainted river._


	7. February

Last Time of My Life

_The beginning of this chapter was actually going to take place in flashback form, but all the italics were confusing my wee little brain, so I tossed the idea and rewrote the entire thing! Hooray! So, what you read below is the new-and-improved version of the would-be flashback thingy. And now, I bring you the longest chapter by 466 words. Enjoy._

º º º

Chapter Seven: February

Okita's bokken clattered as it hit the ground, producing an echoing effect throughout the empty training hall. He bent over, breathing hard. Beads of sweat were rolling off his face and hair. He stumbled backward, leaning on the wall, and slid to the ground. His body was exhausted, as was his psyche. Coughing made his head throb, but he was at the point where his whole body ached that he could hardly tell what hurt him and when.

Ever since being sent back to Kyoto two weeks prior, Okita had done little else other than working at physically strengthening himself. He wasn't going to deny feeling a little lonely at times with everyone still in Fushimi (Matsumoto had even returned to his clinic in Edo), but most times he was glad he could train without anyone nagging him about over-exerting himself. During the past couple of weeks, he had really learned of his limitations from the strain of his illness; at just under thirty-five minutes, he felt himself needing to take a break, whereas before, he could practice for an hour to an hour-and-a-half without stopping.

He tried to stand, but his sore muscles screamed in protest, so he had no other choice but to remain where he sat. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind him. The hall was so still and quiet that Okita could hear his heart pounding inside his chest. Japanese bush warblers and magpie-larks sang pleasant, soothing songs, but they did not deter Okita from hearing the horse-drawn carriage stop on the cobblestones directly outside the compound. He partially opened his eyes, still listening; surely the posted Shinsengumi sentries would turn away any solicitors.

There was some talking, but he was too far off to make real sense of it, and finally it stopped altogether. Despite the objections of his tormented body, Okita clambered to his feet and made his way to the front entrance of the compound. If the sentries weren't going to do anything about the visitor, then it was his job as the first unit captain to take care of it. He stepped off the raised deck and into the courtyard. Almost immediately, Okita realized that it was becoming more difficult to breathe and he winced as his chest constricted painfully. He coughed, hoping to catch a breath in the process, but that seemed to worsen the tightening in his chest. Outside the compound, Okita heard the carriage being driven away, and he wondered if he had wasted his time leaving the training hall.

The sound of crunching leaves caused Okita to spin around, instinctively grabbing for the katana that he was so used to having at his side. He realized soon after that he wasn't carrying his sword, and actually found himself quite glad because he would have hated using it on the deeply distraught person standing before him.

"Tetsu-kun?" Okita said. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. "What are you doing here?"

Tetsu seemed relieved to have found the captain, but Okita couldn't help but notice how shaken he looked. His face was terribly pale and his eyes were red-rimmed as if from crying. He was clutching a piece of parchment in his right hand. Okita walked towards the page to find out what happened, but having temporarily forgotten how weak he felt, he staggered, causing Tetsu to rush forward and steady him.

"What is that?" Okita asked referring to the parchment, for when Tetsu came towards him, he had steadied him by reaching up to grab his shoulders. The parchment was now a few mere inches from Okita's face.

"It's a letter from Hijikata-san."

Tetsu looked back over his shoulder as Okita looked past his tall red hair. Takeuchi was standing there, her arms crossed in front of her in an attempt to block the cold. Although, she did not wear the typical Shinsengumi uniform, she did carry her mother's sword along with a smaller wakizashi, and the fact that she still had both of them strapped at her side, told Okita that she had left Fushimi in haste.

"It's imperative that you read it as soon as possible. Though we should get you inside first," she added when Okita turned away from Tetsu and began coughing.

Together, the three of them stepped back onto the raised deck and headed towards Takeuchi's tatami room. Once inside, Takeuchi took the letter from Tetsu and watched as he dashed off to make them all some tea. She was quite aware that Okita was following the letter with his eyes, anxious to see what it held, so before stepping behind a large room divider to change out of her old clothes, she smiled coyly at him and tucked the letter down the front of her shirt.

Appalled and slightly embarrassed, Okita turned away from the room divider and sat twiddling his thumbs (_in this sentence, the definition of appalled means shocked or surprised_). He was very eager to know the contents of Hijikata's letter, and he wished Tetsu and Takeuchi would stop being so mysterious about it. It had to be something important for Hijikata to send who he did to personally deliver the letter; otherwise, he would have just sent it through the regular post and Okita would have received it about two weeks later. He furrowed his brow when a number of different scenarios began running through his head.

"You're going to give yourself premature wrinkles if you keep frowning like that," Takeuchi said coolly as she stepped out from behind the room divider dressed in a pale sea foam green kimono.

"I just want to know what Hijikata-san has to say," Okita replied exasperatedly.

Okita noticed that Takeuchi's expression faltered ever so slightly when he reminded her about the letter. He watched as she sat down across from him. She removed the letter from her bosom, but instead of handing it to him, she placed it underneath her. Okita opened his mouth to say something to her, but stopped when the shoji door slid open revealing Tetsu carrying a tray laden with three cups of tea and small snacks of various assortments. The page set the tray down as he sat on his knees next to Okita and passed out the drinks. Okita closed his eyes as he drank the tea, because although it was very weak, the warm liquid settled his nerves and for that brief moment he felt at ease. The soothing sensation the tea gave him as it traveled down his throat had him temporarily forgetting the object at hand.

"Aren't you going to ask us about Fushimi?" Takeuchi asked after nibbling on a cracker.

"I wasn't going to," Okita said, putting down his drink. "Am I supposed to?"

"I just thought you might want to know what went on there."

"I think I was there long enough to know what was happening."

Takeuchi sighed; she could tell Okita was getting impatient, and she knew her attempt at trying to delay the inevitable had definitely failed. She reached for the piece of parchment and held it close to her. She hesitated before giving it to him, but the second her arm started to extend, Okita grabbed her wrist and snatched the letter out of her grasp.

_The Choshu are starting to take this battle seriously._

That was how the letter started.

_The Choshu are starting to take this battle seriously. We had been expecting an ambush from them since day one, and on 29 January 1868 it finally came. Multiple units were stationed to guard the base from said attack, but the Choshu did not attack the base directly. It was a brilliant move on their part--no one expected them to want to seize the medical tents and its staff. The few that we were able to arrest and interrogate claimed that they had run out of supplies and so they raided our tents in hopes of coming out with an ample amount of our goods. The tent where you were held was set ablaze..._

Okita stopped reading. The tent where he was held? That was where Takeuchi and Yamazaki worked to help their injured comrades. He looked up at Takeuchi, but she had averted her eyes and was staring down at the tatami mats, her face forlorn. So, he decided to keep reading.

_The tent where you were held was set ablaze after the Choshu felt that they received enough of our supplies. Most of our members had already been deemed well and fit enough to resume fighting, but some members from units one, two, and seven were killed during the fire. Takeuchi has suffered from smoke inhalation, but is otherwise fine. Yamazaki was not so lucky. He seemed to have escaped the fire and for at least a week we were unable to locate him. On 6 February, the tenth unit found Yamazaki's body at the split in the Katsura and Kamo rivers. It appeared that he drowned due to an injury that affected his spinal cord. With an injury like that, it's amazing he made it out that far. He hadn't been dead long since the time we found him. In fact, I think he died that very day he was found. Kondo has already sent word to Yamazaki's family in Osaka saying that his body will be sent there so that he can be buried on his family's property._

There was something else scribbled on the bottom of the leaflet. It read: _Soji, take care of yourself._

The letter concluded with Hijikata's signature, rank, and the Shinsengumi's official seal.

For a while, Okita said nothing, and he felt terribly faint. His skin was naturally pale, but after reading Hijikata's letter, Okita had turned a sickly ashen color that had nothing to do with his disease. He read the letter three more times in hopes of discovering that he had missed something important. Surely what he read was false. It had to be. But after the third time reading, Okita could not find where he might have messed up; the letter was exactly the same each and every time.

"I don't understand," Okita said as he folded up the letter and tucked it away inside his kimono sleeve.

Yamazaki was an ex-ninja; in order for him to receive an injury like that, he would have had to have been struck from behind, and Okita didn't think that was possible for someone with such amazing reflexes. Even still, it would have taken an equally skilled swordsman or archer to produce an attack severe enough to penetrate and damage the spinal cord.

Takeuchi placed her hands on top of Okita's in his lap and it was only then that he realized that his hands had been shaking. He took one of Takeuchi's hands and squeezed it. Okita didn't know what he was feeling right now, but in actuality, he wasn't feeling anything other than numb. He drank his tea hoping it would calm him like it had before, but the drink had gone cold and left him with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Takeuchi asked him.

Okita turned to Tetsu because something told him he ought to. As expected, the flame-haired page was not taking Yamazaki's death well. Although Tetsu had his head bowed so that his long out-of-control bangs shielded his eyes, he could not hide the streams of tears that trailed down his cheeks, nor could he hide the dark circular stains of his tears as they landed on the pants of his hakama. His hands were folded in his lap, his fists tightly clinched. Okita placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, but Tetsu shied away, making a noise that sounded much like a choked-back sob. Tetsu excused himself by darting out of the room, clumsily closing the shoji door behind him.

"He'll be all right," Okita said to no one in particular. "Just give him some time."

"What about you?" Takeuchi asked. "Will you be all right?"

"Did Tetsu-kun know before today?" Okita asked, finally looking at Takeuchi.

"Yes, Hijikata-san showed him the letter the minute he finished writing it. Kondo-san arranged for the fastest carriage in Fushimi to bring us back here so that we could fill you in."

"That wasn't necessary," Okita said. He felt that he was beginning to calm down, but a lump had formed in his throat and he couldn't seem to make it go away. "And you? How are you feeling?"

"It's a little harder to breathe, and I've been feeling nauseous," Takeuchi answered him. She knew he was trying to steer their conversation away from Yamazaki, and she was a little disappointed by that. It was true that everyone handles death differently, but she wanted Okita to grieve and not keep everything bottled up inside of him. For now though, she would honor that and talk about her new symptoms brought on by the fire in Fushimi. "Hijikata did what he could, but he hasn't dealt with medicine in a long time and I think that was making him a little frustrated."

"I should let you rest," Okita said. "That's a long trip and you're probably tired."

Okita collected his tea and started to stand, but before he was fully upright, Takeuchi grabbed his hand and pulled him back into a sitting position. She looked at him firmly. He didn't know what to say, so he just looked back, nonchalant.

"Soji," she said finally, dropping his hand. "It's not a sin to feel sad. It's okay if you want to cry."

"It's not, n-no...I'm f-fine," Okita stammered. "After all, Yamazaki-kun was just my doctor."

"No he wasn't; he was your friend, too! Why else would you call him that?"

Okita sighed, and then cleared his throat. "I don't know..."

A single tear slipped past his defenses and trickled down his cheek. Startled by the involuntary action, Okita lifted his hand, tracing the path the tear had taken. After this, Okita was nearly inconsolable. He lied with his head against Takeuchi's lap, sobbing into the folds of her kimono. When he began to hyperventilate from the crying, Takeuchi tried to calm him by rubbing his back and combing through his long hair with her fingertips. They stayed like this until Okita was so exhausted that even if he had any tears left, he knew he wouldn't be able to make them come out. Before going back to his room to sleep, he thanked Takeuchi for being there for him and encouraging him to let everything out because he claimed to feel a lot better now.

º º º

Two weeks after receiving the letter from Hijikata, Okita had begun to accept what had happened in Fushimi that ultimately led to Yamazaki's untimely demise. Once, he found Tetsu sitting outside the late doctor's room, his back against the wall and his knees tucked against his chest. He appeared to be staring out across the courtyard, and Okita noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Other than that one time, Tetsu seemed to be handling it well, but Okita decided that he would help Tetsu get his mind off the issue anyway. So, he offered to train him in the style of Tennen Rishin-ryu.

"Go grab a couple of shinai from that back shelf," Okita said, flattening out the wrinkles in his hakama. It had been so long since he last wore it.

"Yes, Okita-sensei."

Okita laughed. "You don't have to call me that."

"But you're my sensei now, Sensei."

Tetsu pulled two shinai off from the back wall and trotted back to hand one to Okita. Okita waited patiently for Tetsu to fall into a stance, but laughed when he remained upright, staring at his sensei dumbfounded.

"Is there something wrong, Tetsu-kun?"

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Tetsu said bluntly.

Okita smiled. He was in an unusually good mood today. "You've seen me train before, haven't you? Just copy a stance you've seen me in."

Tetsu exhaled loudly. He remembered back to the time when he and Okita had their first match in this very same training hall. Then, Tetsu lowered his shinai so that the tip of the grip was level with his belly-button and the attacking end was pointed upward towards Okita's throat. After this, Tetsu evenly distributed his weight on his feet so that he would have perfect balance during his match.

Okita nodded, taking the same stance. Although not necessarily good for Tennen Rishin-ryu, it was one of the most basic stances in kenjutsu. As he waited to see whether Tetsu would launch the first attack, he began to feel a surge of giddiness course through him. The excitement of training with another person was almost too overwhelming. He watched Tetsu shift his weight forward ever so slightly, eager to start the match.

Unable to control himself for much longer, Tetsu ran forward with his shinai raised. He struck out at Okita many times, in which Okita merely smiled and repeatedly dodged the attacks. It was very much like their first match together when Tetsu had wanted to join the Shinsengumi. Tetsu, not at all fazed with the knowledge that he had not landed a single attack, continued to swing his shinai about wildly. Okita noticed that although still an amateur, Tetsu was wielding his shinai with a more effective poise than when they had first fought. All the same, Tetsu left himself with a lot of openings, and as a master swordsman, Okita was going to take advantage of his opponent's faults. He reached out, striking Tetsu in the stomach with such force as to knock the little page off his feet.

"You need to work more on your defenses," Okita said, extending his hand to help the boy up.

"I know...ow!" Tetsu cried, wincing. He was clutching his left side. "Your strikes are a lot more painful when I'm not wearing any protective armor."

"That's why you need to be more careful," Okita said, turning away as he coughed. "Are you okay?"

Tetsu nodded, and then dusted himself off. "Hey, Sensei, do you think you could show me that stance of yours? The Hira...Hiriso...Hirosan--"

"The Hiraseigan," Okita said. "Here, stand back."

Okita held up his shinai and took the basic kenjutsu stance that both he and Tetsu had used earlier. He then stepped forward with his right foot and moved his left one back in an angle. He finished with slightly pulling back his left shoulder. He stayed in the Hiraseigan stance, waiting for Tetsu to fall into formation. When his pupil finally got into his interpretation of the stance, only then did Okita drop the stance and walk up to him.

"Pull your left shoulder back more," Okita said, covering his mouth to muffle his coughs.

Okita used his shinai to push Tetsu's shoulder back so that it was even with his left foot. After studying him, Okita decided that Tetsu needed to lift his head, so he used his shinai to pick up his chin. He stepped back to check.

"Looking good, Tetsu-kun," came a voice from behind.

Okita turned around and saw Takeuchi coming towards them, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She stopped in the back corner of the room where Tetsu had taken the shinai from. Okita walked up to his friend, and she offered some of her tea by holding the cup to him. He smiled his thanks and took a sip, but made a sour face when he realized that it was chamomile. Even though it had been weeks since Takeuchi had returned from Fushimi, it was hard for her already diseased lungs to filter out the smoke from the fire, so sometimes she would get a little nauseous.

"Your face is flushed," she whispered to him.

Okita felt his cheek with the back of his hand. "It's warm in here," he said.

He turned back to Tetsu and couldn't help but laugh when he saw that he was still in the Hiraseigan stance. When he relaxed, Okita told him that they would practice again, this time starting in the stance he had just learned. Tetsu began loosening his stiff muscles and then fell into place; Okita fluidly did the same. As he did this, Okita could feel himself yearning for the chance to fight. His eyes grew dark as he instinctively got ready for battle.

Takeuchi counted down to the start of the match. When she signaled them to begin, both Okita and Tetsu leaped forward, their shinai at the ready. Okita threw a vicious attack, aiming for a men--or head--strike. He was glad when Tetsu was able to block his shinai with his own because Okita realized too late that he had put too much force behind the blow and could have seriously hurt his pupil. Tetsu countered by striking with a kote hand-strike, but Okita had the advantage by being taller, so he managed to evade the blow up lifting his arms above Tetsu's head. Okita took a few awkward steps backwards for he had begun to feel dizzy.

Tetsu saw this chance as an opening and decided now was a good time to try his hand at Okita's famous _sandanzuki_. His first target was Okita's neck, but the second Okita realized what he was doing, he stepped to the side and crouched to avoid the attack. He winced and started coughing right after. Tetsu stopped himself from completing the move and took a cautious step forward to see if the captain was all right.

"Never show compassion towards your enemy," Okita wheezed.

Still stooped over, Okita took his shinai and aimed for Tetsu's legs. In his attempt to jump over the bamboo sword, Tetsu tripped over it and stumbled to the side. Then, Okita fell over on his rear and leaned forward into his knees, coughing violently. Takeuchi dropped her tea and ran over to him as he covered his mouth with his hands. He could feel something rising in his throat, and when Takeuchi placed her hand on his back, he retched, coughing something into his hand. This having cleared his airway, he collapsed into Takeuchi's arms, panting. He looked at his hands; they were covered in blood.

"Tetsu-kun," Takeuchi said. "Bring me some cool water and some towels."

Now slightly panic-stricken, Tetsu nodded and dashed out of the training hall. Takeuchi placed her hand on Okita's forehead, pulling back instantly once she felt his skin.

"I knew it; you're burning up," she said to him in a hushed voice. "You know you aren't supposed to be pushing yourself."

"I'm sorry, Amae-chan," Okita said, his words slurred.

"Listen, there's something I want you to know," Takeuchi said, brushing his sweat-streaked bangs out of his face. "A few months ago, Matsumoto-san told me about this hospital that he owns in Edo. I mean, Matsumoto-san is my doctor, and with Yamazaki-kun's death, you're left without one. He said that we can go there anytime, and honestly, I think it would be better for both of us if we went. What do you think?"

Okita nodded and said something unintelligent, but didn't feel like he really understood Takeuchi's words. He watched as Tetsu returned with the things asked for, handing a towel to Takeuchi. She wet it in the water basin and rinsed it. She then placed the cool towel on Okita's forehead and the soothing sensation was enough to put his tired body to sleep. Okita shut his eyes and listened as Takeuchi began explaining something to Tetsu.

He wasn't sure of the rest of it, but he knew he definitely heard, "...leaving for Edo today."

º º º

Okita woke suddenly when he felt the carriage stop. He had slept the entire way over so he was incredibly groggy as he crawled out of the carriage after Takeuchi. He didn't bring anything with him because he was told that they would send for his things later. The building before him was almost identical to the compound in Kyoto and for a second, his mind scrambled to recall what was going on. Only when he caught sight of the vertical name plate near the entrance ("Matsumoto Ryojun") did he remember that he was no longer in Kyoto, but at Matsumoto's clinic in Edo.

He began to feel a little empty. He had been with the Shinsengumi for so many years--he had even gone so far as to help Kondo pick their current Kyoto location--that for a second, he actually wondered whether he had made the right decision by leaving them. He shook his head. Of course he had made the right decision--it was the only decision. He was not getting any better and his chances of infecting the others were almost 100 percent. It would be better for everyone if he were to spend the rest of his days in a hospital.

Matsumoto met them at the door and proceeded with showing them around the hospital. The interior structure was very similar to that of Shinsengumi Headquarters that Okita found himself lost from time to time. One area throughout the hospital, the one farthest from the entrance, was considered to be the main hospital. The floors were tiled, and instead of futons, there were eight silver-railed beds. Matsumoto quietly told them that this was the room for the dying (although not necessarily the terminal) patients. As Matsumoto concluded his tour, he turned around and noticed that Okita was lagging behind, yawning constantly.

"Soji-kun, is something wrong?" he asked once Okita had caught up to them.

Okita cringed at Matsumoto's lack of formality, but forced a smile when he answered, "I'm just a little tired."

"But you slept the whole way here," Takeuchi said with a worried frown.

Matsumoto put a hand on her shoulder. "That's all right," he said, smiling. "Come on, I'll show both of you to your rooms."

He led them down many corridors and past many rooms. Finally, they stopped outside a room with a wooden name plate that read _Okita Soji_. When Matsumoto slid the door open, the tatami room it concealed was much bigger than Okita's one at Headquarters. There were more pieces of furniture, including two tall bookcases, a closet and dresser, a table, and a large futon, already folded out on the floor and ready for use. Okita sighed when he noticed how comfortable it looked.

"There's some tea on the table over there; hopefully it's still warm," Matsumoto said after Okita stepped into his new room. "I'll come check on you after I've shown Amaterasu-chan her room."

Again, Okita made a face at what he considered to be a lack of respect, but decided to ignore it when Takeuchi didn't seem at all bothered by it. He bid them both farewell, sliding the shoji shut as they turned to leave. Once he was alone, he eyed the futon longingly, wanting nothing else than to curl up and sleep, but then he remembered the tea Matsumoto had left out for him. He decided that he had better drink it out of courtesy to the doctor and sat down at the table. He lifted the cup and was glad when he found that it was still warm. The smell of it reminded him of something, and it didn't take long for him to place that smell; it was opium tea. But it was different than Yamazaki's. There was a hint of lime flavor, and although the tea lost some of its bitterness, Okita found himself actually missing the tea that Yamazaki would serve him.

He put the ceramic cup back on the table and hung his head. He thought about just going to bed; he would apologize to Matsumoto for not drinking the tea later. He pushed back away from the table and walked over to the futon. It looked so fluffy. Okita ran his hand over the top of the covers--they were thick and probably very warm. After he lied down and pulled the covers up to his chin, he began to feel the fatigue of his illness and the strain on his muscles from training with Tetsu earlier.

What would Yamazaki have said to him if he knew that he had been training? He probably would have been upset with him. Okita sighed, turning on his side so that his back was facing the front shoji door. He yawned once more and then drifted off to sleep.

º º º

_Sandanzuki translates to "three-part thrust" and Hiraseigan is the stance usually taken to execute this move. For more information, watch Peacemaker Kurogane episode one, or look it up elsewhere. _

_Bah. Hijikata's letter sounded so much better in my head. Also, has Tetsu been mute this entire time? I don't think I've had him say one word prior to this chapter. Wow, I made one of the loudest members the absolute quietest. I'm amazing. Haha._

_Sorry about the ending. I was doing so good until I forgot what I was gonna write. So, that's why the ending was so...blah._

_Random factoid: my favorite chapter thus far; and yes, I'm devastated that Yamazaki had to die. _

_Next chapter: Okita receives some well-needed company._


	8. March

Last Time of My Life

_Sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual to come out. It appears I hit a snag in my creativity and productivity streaks. Blame the "Baby Universe" (you won't get that, so don't even try)._

º º º

Chapter Eight: March

Okita opened his eyes and squinted against the morning light. It was now spring and the weather was finally starting to change to reflect the season. And although it was warm outside, this morning Okita woke up with chills, so he shut his eyes and snuggled deeper into his layers of blankets. He had had a fever on and off all day yesterday, and he had turned in early feeling exhausted. He had hoped to wake up feeling refreshed, but the constant late-night bouts of coughing had kept him up until the wee hours of the morning.

He coughed into his hands, and then covered his head with one of his blankets. He shifted in the futon as he tried to get comfortable, ignoring the sound of footsteps draw ever closer to his room. Matsumoto tended to make his rounds early in the morning, but Okita hoped that the doctor would realize that he was still in bed and come back later. Unfortunately, Okita could do nothing but sigh irritably as the door was slid open behind him.

"Where is he? Is he under there?"

"The name on the door says this is his room."

"But what if they moved him?"

"Shh! You all are making too much noise."

Okita opened his eyes and stared at the inside of his blanket fortress. None of the voices he heard belonged to Matsumoto, and although familiar-sounding, their whispers were terribly muffled due to the blanket over his head. He didn't want them around, whoever they were, and he figured that if he could just stay still and _quiet_, then maybe they would leave. But when Okita was unable to hold back a few coughs, he shook his mass of blankets, causing an uproar of whispers from the crowd.

"It made noises...and moved!"

"Maybe it's a ghost."

There was silence as the group considered the possibility of a ghost. It was a ridiculous assumption, but then this was a ridiculous group of people. Okita coughed again and moaned, wishing they would just go away. He was startled and stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Soji?"

Okita shied away from the touch and sank further into the abyss that were the blankets. Unfazed by the sudden movement, the person reached for the layer of sheets over Okita's head and removed them. Okita quickly shut his eyes as they were once again met with the bright morning light. For a while he remained motionless, trying to decipher the crowd's silence.

"Soji, we know you're awake."

Once again, Okita's body tensed. Before, the individual voices from the crowd had been hard to understand, but now that Okita was no longer being covered by a mound of blankets, he was able to discern the voices around him. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the hazy figures as his eyes adjusted to the light. As soon as his vision cleared, he could immediately recognize the five people standing before him, but he rubbed his eyes with his fists just to be sure. He was surprised and a little relieved when the people remained.

"So, you are here," Kondo said placing a comforting hand on Okita's shoulder.

Even though he remained smiling, when Kondo touched the first unit captain, he realized how sick he had gotten since he had last seen him. Although his kimono concealed how thin he'd gotten, Kondo couldn't help but feel a little disgusted at Okita's bony shoulder beneath his hand. Okita's cheeks had moved in and there were dark circles below his eyes that gave him somewhat of a skeletal appearance. His pallor was even more of a sickly ashen color than it had been before.

Okita grabbed one of his many blankets and draped it over his shoulder for he was still a little cold. The pressure Kondo was putting on his shoulder actually hurt him, but he didn't want to seem rude by pushing him away. He looked around the room at the people in front of him; there was Kondo and Hijikata, along with Saito Hajime, Harada Sanosuke, and Todo Heisuke.

"What are you all doing in Edo, and how did you know I was here?" Okita asked.

"The fact that we're both in Edo is purely coincidence," Kondo said clasping his hands together. "I'm actually here to meet with an important figure regarding the Koyo Chimbutai's next plan for action. Todo-san was running an errand for me when he ran into Matsumoto-san who told him that you were here."

"The Koyo Chimbutai?"

"Oh right," Sano said. "That's the Shinsengumi's new name."

Okita nodded. It seemed that a lot had happened since he left Fushimi; Kondo was meeting with figureheads from Edo and the Shinsengumi had been renamed, which was almost something of a promotion. He pulled his sheet over his mouth and coughed into it pathetically.

"How are you doing, Okita-san?" Heisuke piped in.

"I've been better," Okita said in between coughs, his voice muffled by the sheet covering his face.

Just then, there was a polite little knock outside Okita's room. Okita and his group turned their attention to the shoji door as it slid open, and Matsumoto greeted them from the open doorway. For some reason, upon seeing Okita's friends, Matsumoto gave a slight frown, but said nothing as he walked in and handed a cup to his patient.

Okita took the cup and stared into it; the liquid inside was clear. As Okita's appetite continued to decrease, Matsumoto had stopped him from drinking any and all forms of tea because he claimed that the drink was not good for someone with a continuously empty stomach. Since then, Okita had been on a pure water diet.

"Hello, everyone," Matsumoto said finally before turning his attention to Okita. "I came by to check on you earlier, but I guess you were still asleep. How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm a little cold," Okita said as he wrapped his blanket tighter around himself.

Upon first receiving Matsumoto as a physician, Okita had been a bit skeptical. When Takeuchi noticed this, she said that since Okita used to have Yamazaki as a docter, that he wasn't quite used to someone caring so much or showing that amount of compassion towards his patients as Matsumoto did. Okita had gotten upset at first about Yamazaki being so harshly talked about when there was no way he could defend himself, but eventually, Okita was able to laugh about it. He knew that although he meant well, Yamazaki had said some pretty cruel things to him.

"It's probably from yesterday's fever," Matsumoto said, patting Okita's head. Okita thought his very paternal, but also found it very annoying. "Your body must now be just sweating it out."

Okita nodded, coughing. He was still a little sleepy, and the newly-named Koyo Chimbutai had interrupted him when he had still had the chance to fall back asleep. He took a sip of water, holding back a grimace at the drink's tastelessness.

Matsumoto turned back to the Koyo Chimbutai. "I would like to speak with you outside in the garden. Okita, if you could please wait here."

Okita looked confused before his weakened body was racked with coughs. As his anguish continued, he watched as Matsumoto ushered everyone out of the room, closing the door behind him. Okita coughed so often that Matsumoto rarely found it for a cause for concern. He usually just gave Okita a drink of water and then went about his duties.

When his coughing had completely ceased, Okita got off his futon and crept over to the sliding doors, the long sheet covering his shoulders now dragging on the tatami. Matsumoto had steered the others too far away and Okita could not hear anything that resembled their voices. He opened the shoji just slightly and peeked out. Nothing. He opened the doors a little wider and stuck his head out, turning left and right to look down both hallways of the raised deck. Still nothing.

He sighed. Okita didn't like being left in the dark, because he _knew_ Matsumoto was talking about him. He went back over to his futon and grabbed his ceramic water-filled cup before stepping out to the left of his tatami room to find Matsumoto and the Koyo Chimbutai. He took a sip of water and almost spilled the entire drink onto the raised deck when he literally bumped into Takeuchi.

"Where are you going?" she asked stepping back to avoid the puddle before her.

"Kondo-san's here with some of the others," Okita said. "Matsumoto-san wanted to speak with them."

"I know; I was just saying hello to them."

"Where are they?"

"In the terrace garden," Takeuchi said as she pointed in the direction from whence she came.

"Good; thank you."

Okita smiled at Takeuchi, trying to ignore the troubled look on her face, and started to make his way past her towards the garden.

"Wait!"

He turned around and saw Takeuchi trotting towards him. When she reached him, she leaned forward on her knees, breathing heavily.

"You don't want to go over there," she said, panting. "It's rude...to interrupt them."

Okita smiled again, but this time he also had a sad look about him. "I know, but once they're gone, I won't be able to see them again. I want to spend as much time with them as I can. Plus, I'd like to refill my cup."

Takeuchi looked up at him with a pained expression. She knew exactly what he had been referring to, but she hated to hear him talk so morosely. Finally, she straightened up and smiled back at him.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you."

Together, the two of them walked across the raised deck until coming to the place where the deck split into a ninety-degree angle than branched out and eventually ran together again to form a square. The plot of land in the center was what was commonly known as the terrace garden. It wasn't so much a garden as it was a big spacious lot where patients visited simply for its serenity. In the middle of the garden was a large hundred-year-old Japanese maple tree that provided plenty of shade throughout the area. On the sand-like gravel beneath the tree and around some of the edges of the raised deck were small two-seater wooden benches.

Okita scanned the open area, but was unable to spot Kondo or any of the others. He took a sip of water and kept walking.

"Now where are you going?" Takeuchi asked him.

Okita turned his head to the side as he coughed, holding his cup up for Takeuchi to see. "My water, remember?"

They continued just past the terrace garden until they reached a large open room filled with wooden tables and the pungent smell of hospital food. Takeuchi pulled on Okita's kimono sleeve and directed his attention to the left where Matsumoto was currently serving bottles of sake to the Koyo Chimbutai. Instead of being glad to see them, Okita frowned at his friends' protective rice-paper masks that covered their noses and mouths. He glanced down at Takeuchi, who was still holding on to his sleeve, but she had now averted her eyes to the ground.

He now knew why Takeuchi had tried to prevent him from finding the others; she knew how he felt about being sick and being apart from the ones closest to him, and she also knew the fact that Matsumoto had had the Koyo Chimbutai take protective measures against Okita's disease really destroyed him.

Okita marched over to the two tables that had been pushed together to form one and sat down with his friends. The seating arrangement had--from left to right--Kondo, Hijikata, and Heisuke on one side. Okita had seated himself directly across from Hijikata, with Saito on his right and Sano on his left. Takeuchi sat in between Sano and Matsumoto near the end of the second table.

"Oh good, you found us," Matsumoto said kindly.

Okita said nothing as he reset the blanket on his shoulders yet again. He put his head down and coughed loudly into the folds of the blanket; his throat was starting to feel raw from all the coughing he had done.

"You should eat something, Soji," Kondo said putting down his sake.

"I'm not hungry," he answered dejectedly. "Tell me again why you're here in Edo."

It was obvious to everyone that Okita had only said that because he wanted their attention directed somewhere other than solely on him. He was sick and he was dying, he knew and learned to accept that, so he felt that there was no reason why anyone should care or think differently.

"Well, like I said earlier," Kondo started. "I met with one of Edo's top figureheads so that he could explain the Koyo Chimbutai's next action plan. We'll be leaving here within the next couple of days for Katsunuma in Yaminashi."

Okita nodded, but looked a little crestfallen after hearing the news. He missed the excitement of battle and not being able to aid Kondo and his comrades in one of the most important times of their lives killed him.

"Where is Nagakura-san?" Okita asked looking around the group and just realizing that the Three Comedians were missing their shortest member.

"He went back to Kyoto to pick up Tetsu-kun and any other able-bodied soldiers that are left at Headquarters," Sano said. "He's supposed to meet us in Yaminashi."

The sound of coughing came from Okita's left. It startled him at first because he was so used to only hearing himself. He turned in the direction of the noise and saw Takeuchi really gripping at the table, her eyes wide as she struggled to catch a breath in between her coughs.

"Amae-chan!" Okita cried.

He pushed his chair back and stood a little too quickly. The strain on his decaying lungs caused by his shout and sudden movement left him doubled over coughing into the folds of his blanket. He recovered soon enough, swallowing the bloody sputum that had forced its way into his mouth, and watched closely as Matsumoto stood up beside his friend.

Takeuchi was still coughing violently, and although she was covering her mouth with her hands, she could not hide the blood seeping out from the spaces between her fingers. Matsumoto grabbed her by her shoulders and began leading her out of the room.

"Excuse us," he said before adding to Okita," She'll be fine."

Okita sat down shakily, watching as Takeuchi and Matsumoto left. When he had returned his attention back to the Koyo Chimbutai, he noticed that Hijikata had removed a folded piece of paper from his kimono and was sliding it stealthily across the table. Okita looked at him, confused.

"We found this in Fushimi," Hijikata said. "It's addressed to you from Yamazaki."

Okita's eyes widened. He was receiving a letter from Yamazaki? He grabbed the letter off the table and quickly unfolded it. His face fell upon seeing the contents of it; the kanji was difficult to understand because it was jumbled and running together. The paper itself was also a little damp.

"Where did you find this?" he asked.

He squinted, hoping to try and make out some of the kanji. When that didn't work, he tried reading the paper at different angles; maybe he had it upside down. Finally, he sighed angrily.

"We found it on his person...down at the river," Hijikata said taking a drink of sake.

"I see." Okita looked down at the letter, slightly discouraged, and laid it back down on the table.

When he began coughing, Okita remembered that reason he had come to the hospital's mess hall in the first place. The one obvious reason had been to find Kondo and the others (since it was right by the terrace garden), but he had also wanted to refill the water he had spilled over by his room. He lowered his head as he coughed again and reached for the cup directly in front of him. He frequent coughing usually made him pretty thirsty, so he put the cup to his lips and downed about half of its contents.

Okita spluttered at the taste, actually spitting a portion of what he drank back into its respected cup. The rest that he had managed to swallow burned his throat on the way down. The drink had a bitter yet somewhat pleasant taste. The silence around him and with the faces of the others, Okita couldn't help but wonder what it was that he just drank.

"Way to go, Okita!" Sano cried after a while, patting Okita on the back.

"What did I do?" Okita asked. He blinked his eyes several times for his vision was a bit cloudy and he had begun to feel a little dizzy.

"You just drank--" Saito began.

"No, don't say anything!" Sano yelled. "Here, Okita, drink this."

Sano handed his cup to Okita who downed another two-thirds of this drink because the last one had made him unusually thirsty.

Time continued to pass and as it did Okita continued to drink more, each gulp of sake making him all the more drunk. No one had ever seen Okita this way; anytime there had ever been a cause for celebration, Okita would always turn down the drink, saying that he didn't particularly like the taste of it. It was now clear that that was not the case at all, but rather that his body could not tolerate the liquor very well.

Okita was a rather amusing drunk. He wasn't the touchy-feely kind, but he was very affectionate and emotional all the while blabbering about how he appreciated everyone for coming all this way to visit him. Once, he even started crying and complained about how he hated being sick and how he wished he could join them all on the battlefield.

It was terribly entertaining for the others, but it was a mystery as to why Kondo and Hijikata allowed this sort of behavior. Both of them guarded the remainder of their drinks with as much vigor as possible, but even they could not stop Okita when he grabbed Saito's drink and attempted to swallow it in one massive gulp. They did notice, however, that the sake had relieved Okita of his debilitating coughs. In fact, aside from his emaciated appearance, Okita almost seemed healthy again. Kondo couldn't help but smile at this.

Finally, some few hours later, Okita placed the side of his head on top of the table. Although he was still very drunk, he was also completely exhausted. Now, his face was flushed and his eyes were glassy.

"This was a bad idea," Heisuke hissed at Sano. He was mistaking Okita's tiredness for sickness. "You shouldn't have let him drink so much."

"What are you talking about? You couldn't wait to offer him _your_ drink!"

Okita answered them with a large, drawn-out yawn. He attempted to get comfortable by snuggling into his chair, and they all watched as his eyelids began to droop. Everyone's attention turned to Hijikata as he stood up from the table.

"I think it's time that we left," he said.

"But Matsumoto-san said we could stay the night!" Heisuke protested.

Hijikata said nothing as he made his way around the table towards Okita. He picked up the blanket that had fallen off his shoulders long ago and wrapped it around the sickly captain as he scooped him up in his arms. Hijikata handed Yamazaki's letter to Kondo, who tucked it away in his kimono sleeve.

Okita instinctively snuggled against the warmth of Hijikata's kimono, leaning into his own chest as he coughed quietly. As he was carried back to his room, he felt Kondo brush a few sweat-streaked bangs out of his face. Although extremely drowsy, Okita had the brain capacity to have one more intelligent thought; he was covered in sweat but his body was freezing. If he had a fever now it appeared to be contradicting the alcohol in his system.

It didn't seem too much longer before Okita felt himself being placed onto his futon. He heard the others saying their goodnights and goodbyes, but he was asleep before they had a chance to leave the room. And by the time Okita woke up the next morning, the Koyo Chimbutai was well on its way to Yaminashi.

º º º

_No shounen ai, I promise. For those unaware, although alcohol can make you feel warmer, it actually drops your body temperature, so hopefully that explains Okita's actions after having been drunk._

_Also, I do apologize for the really random filler chapter. I always knew this chapter was going to give me trouble, but I didn't want to change any of my plans for future chapters, so I pretty much just BS'd this one. I hope it was still to everyone's liking._

_Okay, I have something important to say (for once): I may or may not update next month. I'm flying out to Florida on July 19 and I will be gone for a little over a week, so I don't know if I'll have the time to write another chapter before then. And no, I will NOT be working on the next chapter while I'm on vacation because that's just silly._

_Next chapter: just let the rain keep falling down._


	9. April

Last Time of My Life

_So, I got back from Disney World, and I thought "Snap! I have to update this thing." Problem was, I had NO IDEA what to write. I knew what I wanted to include, but it was getting down to the actual converting thoughts into typed up sentences to form a chapter that was really bugging me._

_Disclaimer: History owns the people; Nanae Chrono owns the manga; Gonzo Digimation owns the anime; Hellfire 13 owns Takeuchi Amaterasu and other characters to be associated with her. I own a fat cat named Misty and the laptop from which these chapters gush forth._

_Thanks to Hellfire13 for helping oodles with this chapter. I really needed it. Also, don't forget that Hellfire13 wrote Suyuan, a companion story for LToML. There will be a few things mentioned in this chapter that correlate with chapters in Suyuan, so I suggest taking a few minutes to check that out._

º º º

Chapter Nine: April

_She tossed and turned in the midst of a fitful sleep. Caught in the grip of a terrible nightmare, she prayed for someone to rescue her but knew in her soul that no one would ever come. She was running as fast as she could, trying to escape the darkness that always seemed to be chasing her. Suddenly she tripped and fell hard against the stone floor. Walls grew up around her and she was once again trapped in the tiny room where her father had kept her prisoner._

_She felt a sharp pain in her ankle and glanced down to see a skeletal hand wrapped tightly around her ankle and blood slowly erupting from beneath the bony fingers. She lay collapsed on the ground, aching with an unbearable pain, a realization of the fear held an unflinching grip on her heart. She heard footsteps approach and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Her father was coming and she knew she was going to be punished for running away, punished severely. She resigned herself to her fate, knowing that he was going to kill her._

º º º

Okita snapped his head back when he felt it starting to droop again. He blinked his eyes several times, looking out past his open shoji door. The wind was picking up, but there was not yet a drop of rain as had been predicted by Takeuchi. A couple of days ago, the weather had been ideal for this time of year, so Matsumoto suggested to some of his patients to leave their doors open throughout the daylight hours in order to get some fresh air. He claimed that that was part of the healing process.

Okita had been sitting at the back of his room, silently watching the people as they walked by. He picked up the sheet laying beside him and draped it over his shoulders, yawning loudly as he did so. Being so close to one of the far corners of the hospital, Okita rarely saw anyone come by, and he figured the ones that did either had rooms of their own nearby or were lost; he had quickly gotten bored and had even begun dozing off and now his neck was sore from continuing to involuntarily hang his head.

He lied down on the tatami mats, uncomfortable as they may be, and curled himself into a tight ball. A small draft ripped through the thin sheet he used to cover himself, initiating a few deep coughs. He ignored them as he had learned to do during all the months of dealing with his life-consuming sickness, and merely waited for his chest to stop aching. When he could no longer keep himself awake, he closed his eyes and pulled his blanket closer to him; he was asleep within seconds.

As of late, Okita tended to sleep during the day whenever he could. He had always known that his coughing spells were more intense at night, but as the disease progressed and his body grew weaker, it seemed as if his chances of getting a full-night's sleep were almost zero. Because of this, Okita found it a lot easier to fall asleep during the day and often took plenty of catnaps.

At one point during this particular nap, Okita felt someone place a hand on his shoulder and began shaking him gently. Okita curled tighter into himself and nudged the intruder away from him.

"Soji-kun, please wake up."

It was Matsumoto. Okita did everything in his power not to sigh irritably. During the past month and a half that Okita had spent at Matsumoto's hospital in Edo, he had learned to accept the man as his new doctor and occasionally even went as far as saying that he liked the guy, but it was always when Matsumoto tried to wake him that Okita had to reconsider everything he thought about him. He probably wouldn't have minded so much before, but now he was always so tired that he just wanted to relish every second of his coughless slumber.

Matsumoto placed his hand back on Okita's shoulder and shook him a little harder. This time, Okita stuck his arm out from under the blanket and shoved Matsumoto with as much force as he could muster, which wasn't much considering how tired and weak he was; he wasn't even sure the force of his attack had had enough power to even move the doctor. He mumbled something incoherently when he heard Matsumoto laugh wholeheartedly.

"Come on, it's time to get up."

Then, Matsumoto did the one thing that many people would do when faced with this sort of situation: he grabbed the sheet around Okita and swiftly pulled it away from him. Okita gasped, shivering automatically. His eyes shot open and he stared angrily at the man before him.

"I'm sorry," Matsumoto said as Okita sat up slowly, "but I needed you awake."

He handed the blanket back to Okita and stood. Okita was almost tempted to collapse back on the ground just because he wanted to be stubborn, but before he had the chance, something about the room caught his eye. It was a lot darker than it had been before he had fallen asleep. He stared past Matsumoto and noticed that his door was no longer completely open, and he had to squint to see out the remaining crack.

"Matsumoto-san, please pardon my earlier rudeness," Okita said as he watched Matsumoto light various candles around the room.

"No worries," Matsumoto laughed. "You simply reacted as anyone would that is as tired as you. I promise not to take too much of your time."

Okita waited patiently as Matsumoto ran through the different stages of his examination. Both were surprised to discover that Okita was not currently running a temperature of any kind. Ever since moving to Edo, and even before when he was still in Kyoto, Okita had been constantly plagued by incapacitating fevers that prevented him from doing little else other than sleep. The fact that he didn't have one now gave Matsumoto and Okita a small reason to hope; not because Okita might actually be cured (that was never a possibility), but at the very least, his sickness could go into a remission just as Takeuchi's had done so many years ago.

Next, Matsumoto checked the lymph nodes in Okita's neck. They were a little swollen, but that was to be expected for someone whose tuberculosis was as far along as Okita's and Takeuchi's. They both coughed so much that it only seemed natural that their throats were a little tender, too. Matsumoto then stood behind Okita, covering his mouth and nose with his kimono sleeve as he listened to Okita's coughing. Okita hated this part of the examination the worst, mostly due to the fact that Matsumoto had him cough numerous times. He knew it was because the doctor wanted to listen to any rattling in his lungs, which there was plenty of, but Okita disliked coughing so much; he was afraid of spitting up more blood, and he didn't know how much more his body could take.

"How have you been sleeping lately?" Matsumoto asked, stepping back in front of Okita to check his eyes.

Okita gave the man an exasperated look. Surely Matsumoto wasn't overlooking his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles beneath them. He had to have noticed during his nightly rounds around the hospital that there was no chance that Okita could sleep with the way he coughed in the later hours of the evening.

"Right, sorry," Matsumoto said a little embarrassed, "I had to ask. You know, I have some medicine that could really knock you out. You just have to say the word and I'll--"

"I appreciate that, Matsumoto-san, I really do," Okita said, turning his head and covering his mouth as a few coughs escaped him. "But I think I just need some alone time to recuperate a little."

"Normally, I would have to agree with that, but I think I might have to listen to my own instincts on this one. Soji-kun, you sound terrible, and I think some sleep might do you some good. They made soup for lunch in the kitchen; I'll go see if there's any left."

Okita watched Matsumoto's retreating back for as long as he could. When the doctor was out of sight, Okita lied back down on the tatami, pulling his blanket up to his chin. He knew he needed sleep, but he felt that he was being forced into it and he didn't like that. He figured that his body would tell him when it had had enough.

He sighed loudly, closing his eyes. How long _did_ he have until that happened? The disease had infected his lungs, and it wasn't like he could rely on any of his other organs when his lungs failed him. He already had enough trouble breathing as it was, and when he coughed it felt like someone was ripping into his chest with a thousand katana. At least, that's what he guessed it would feel like.

He wondered about Kondo, Hijikata, and the rest of the Koyo Chimbutai constantly. About a week ago, a lowly ranked foot soldier from the Satsuma was brought in from the Battle of Koshu Katsunuma and was now under Matsumoto's care. The man, whose name was Yamamoto Hide, had a broken arm, his fox-like face covered in burns, and a gapping hole in his stomach that alluded that he might have tried to commit seppuku. Soon after arriving at the hospital, Yamamoto had recognized Okita for who he was almost instantly. He laughed and jeered at the Shinsengumi captain, gloatingly stating that the Koyo Chimbutai had suffered an embarrassing defeat at Katsunuma and that they had retreated to Nagareyama with their tails between their legs. Okita dismissed Yamamoto's comments at first, but after a few minutes thinking, he had to wonder what really happened. Nevertheless, Okita hated this man and he hoped that Hijikata had been the one who had shattered the bone in his sword-wielding arm.

When Okita coughed his whole body trembled and his chest burned. He looked out the open crack of his shoji door. It looked a lot darker now, but he knew it couldn't be too late in the afternoon; after all, his nap had been short-lived when Matsumoto had come in to do his check-up. He felt his eyelids starting to droop, but the same minute he closed his eyes, he heard the door slide open and Matsumoto come clambering in.

"Rise and shine," Matsumoto said as he made his way over.

Okita sat up, still bundled in his blanket, and watched as Matsumoto placed a tray with a small bowl of broth on the tatami in front of him. Matsumoto leaned over the bowl and removed a small packet from inside his kimono sleeve, and Okita watched as he tore the packet open, dumping its contents into the broth before him. He picked up a spoon and stirred the broth until the powdery medicine had fully dissolved.

"Here we go," Matsumoto said as he handed the bowl to Okita. "Be careful, it's a little warm."

Okita held the bowl to his chest and did nothing else but stare down into it. "Couldn't I have just taken the medicine? Why do I have to have soup, too?"

Matsumoto looked at him firmly. "You need to eat _something_." He sat in front of Okita and made himself comfortable. "That medicine is really potent. You should be feeling its effects with just a few spoonfuls."

Okita picked up the spoon and nodded. He put the utensil to his lips and waited as the broth trickled down into his stomach. It gave him a feeling of warmth and so he repeated the process. This time he covered his mouth and coughed as the warm liquid soothed his parched throat, but irritated the raw skin on the inside of his throat as it traveled downwards. By Okita's fifth spoonful, he was forced to put the bowl down beside him as he now felt very full. He was also feeling a little sick, but he attributed that mostly to his fullness; having had no appetite for the longest time, he figured that maybe his stomach just wasn't used to having what would now seem like such a large amount of sustenance.

"I think that's enough," Matsumoto said reaching over to take the bowl from Okita. "Do you feel any different?"

"Not yet."

"Then let's talk. I promise it will help."

For a while neither of them said anything, and then Okita asked, "Is it raining yet?"

He didn't like talking about the weather, because he felt that that was something you did during awkward silences, like at a first date. He had to hold back a smile when he realized that there had been an awkward silence, which had been the very reason he had asked the question in the first place. Maybe Matsumoto's medicine was starting to work after all.

"No, but I'd say by sometime tonight," Matsumoto said. "It looks pretty bad out there."

Okita frowned. "How is she?"

Okita knew that Matsumoto would know that he meant Takeuchi. Her disease progressed just as Okita's did, and just like with him, there were certain things that set it off. Okita was worried about her.

"I checked on her before I did you," Matsumoto said. "She was doing better, but the weather _is_ affecting her. I want to check on her again once I leave you."

"I want to go with you," Okita said starting to stand. A wave of dizziness suddenly overcame him and he swayed; he felt Matsumoto grab his arm, forcing him back into a sitting position.

"I think it would be better if you stayed here and got some sleep," Matsumoto said. "That medicine I gave you acts as a sort of sedative, so you're going to feel a little woozy and be unsteady on your feet if you try standing again."

Okita nodded slowly, allowing a minute for his head to stop spinning. It would have been nice if Matsumoto had told him about that effect beforehand. He covered his mouth as he tried miserably to hide a yawn. Matsumoto saw that and smiled.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," he said picking up the still full bowl of soup and standing. He watched amusedly as Okita crawled over to his futon and curled into a tight ball, burying himself underneath a pile of blankets. "If you want, I can come back and let you know how she's doing."

There was silence. Matsumoto was sure his offer had fallen on deaf ears, but he had said it nonetheless. He turned to Okita and smiled when he saw the former Shinsengumi captain sound asleep.

As he made his way down the hallway to Takeuchi's room, it began to rain.

º º º

The sound of rain hitting the roof above him caused Okita to wake suddenly. He didn't know what time it was, but he guessed that it was already the next day because it felt as though he had slept for a long time. He did not wake once after being with Matsumoto, and although he felt more rested than before, he was still a little tired. He crawled out from beneath the blankets and stretched, yawning as he did so.

He wanted to visit Takeuchi, but before standing, he kneeled and waited to see if he was going to have another dizzy spell. When it seemed that he was going to be all right, he stood up and walked out the sliding door. The first thing he noticed--aside from the rain that fell in sheets--was how incredibly muggy it was outside. No one would dare have their doors open today.

Okita took a few steps in the direction of Takeuchi's room. Every breath he took as he walked was agony, and he then wondered how his childhood friend was faring. Her room was to the right of Okita's in the quieter, more secluded side of the hospital. Okita enjoyed his peace and quiet, so he envied her because he wished his room could have been on the same side as hers. He sighed and continued walking.

"Okita!"

Okita stopped, but he did not turn around. He cringed at the other person's voice. There were footsteps behind him, and they were slowly getting closer.

"Oi, Okita-_taichou_."

This time Okita turned, meeting the gaze of Satsuma member Yamamoto Hide. The man's beady but long and narrow eyes deeply accented the smirk on his lips, and Okita tried to suppress a shudder. He walked over to Okita, shifting his arm that was in a sling.

"I thought you would respond to that," Yamamoto said, "even though you're technically not a captain anymore."

Okita made a face. Although he had not been officially discharged, he had been out of commission for such a long time that he just considered himself no longer a member of the special elite police force. Not only that, but he had been made a captain of the Shinsengumi, but now they were the Kuyo Chimbutai, with which he had no affiliation with. He was nothing but a sickly swordsman now, if he could even still call himself a swordsman.

"Do you need something from me, Yamamoto-san?" Okita asked, clenching his fists in an effort to sound polite and failing somewhat.

Yamamoto shook his head, disbelieving. "That's amazing; you're never rude, even to me. To think you used to be a captain of the nefarious Shinsengumi of Mibu."

"Nefarious only to the Choshu and Satsuma. Some people actually consider us heroes."

Yamamoto guffawed. "If you say so. Oh, which reminds me, Okita-taichou: have you heard any news from your comrades in arms?"

"Of course not," Okita said indignantly. "They're too busy to write to me."

Okita's breath caught as realization hit him. No, no one of the Kuyo Chimbutai had ever written to him. They were busy trying to overpower the ideals enforced by the Satsuma and Choshu. As Okita took a moment to think, he felt himself falling into a downward spiral. Plenty of people at this hospital received letters weekly from concerned family and friends; surely they had busy schedules too.

He felt his chest tighten, and he covered his mouth with his hand to block a cough. Yamamoto was a horrible man; there was no denying that no matter how hard Okita tried. He wanted to believe that everyone deserved a second chance, that he shouldn't judge Yamamoto just because he was part of the Satsuma, but no matter how hard he tried Okita could not think any differently.

"Too bad," Yamamoto said sneering. "Then, I don't think I should tell you this..."

Okita was curious now. "What is it?"

"Well, Okita-taichou, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but--"

"Don't patronize me; just say whatever it is you have to say, and then kindly leave me be."

Yamamoto smirked from ear to ear, and his eyes narrowed eerily. "Fine then. I heard from one of my men that your precious Shinsengumi suffered another embarrassing loss to the Imperialists."

Okita shook his head. "I don't know where your information's from, so you can't honestly expect me to believe it."

He tried to put up a front, but inside he was battling with the uncertainty that Yamamoto might be right. He wondered what was going on in Kondo's head to have the Kuyo Chimbutai lose in so many major battles; this would be the second one in a row. He wished he could have been there.

"Believe what you want," Yamamoto said. "I also heard that it wasn't just a loss, but a surrender."

"No..." Okita tensed. Kondo would never do something so cowardly, even if it meant the death of the entire regime. At least they would all die protecting what they thought was right.

"There was something about Kondo too. I think he was captured." Okita's eyes widened and Yamamoto grinned even wider. "I believe he killed someone from the Shogunate. Go figure. Apparently, he's going on trial and is to be severely punished; he might even be killed--"

"STOP IT!"

As soon as Okita yelled, he doubled over, coughing violently. He felt his chest constrict as his lungs struggled to draw a breath. Beads of sweat ran down his face, and his vision began to fade as his head pounded against his skull, and he began to feel faint from the lack of oxygen. His coughing sounded horrible, possibly his worse to date, and Okita was afraid that this was going to be it for him.

He continued coughing until finally, blood expelled itself from his mouth onto the raised deck. Yamamoto, surprised by the sudden attack, took a few cautious steps backwards. Grabbing his pained chest, Okita looked up defiantly at the Satsuma member, panting heavily.

Yamamoto stuck his nose in the air. "That was disgusting. What a shame to see a prefect prodigy such as yourself in such a terrible state."

Okita winced as he watched Yamamoto's retreating back. His chest was burning so badly that he couldn't concentrate so he wasn't even sure he had heard what Yamamoto just said. He struggled to his feet and continued on his way to Takeuchi's room, using the wall for support every step of the way. Luckily, her room was just a few feet from where he had been previously, but to him, it still felt like it was miles away.

He walked into Takeuchi's room, sliding the shoji shut behind him. The first thing he noticed was that she was asleep, and he wondered how she could still be sleeping when he had just made so much commotion outside. He stumbled his way over to her, collapsing against the wall when he reached her. He slid to the floor and waited until his breathing started to even out.

He ran a shaky hand through his long hair and looked at Takeuchi while she slept. It was only then that he noticed that, even as she slept, she was very restless. She tossed and turned constantly, gripping at her sheets as though they were her most precious possession. Okita watched as her mouth moved, whispering something from her dream. Deciding to rescue her from her fitful sleep and disturbing dreams, Okita reached out his hand to touch her shoulder.

Takeuchi awoke panicked, still gripped with fear and terror when she realized someone was holding her. She struggled in an attempt to get away when she heard a familiar voice telling her that everything is alright. She froze, then looked up to see Okita gazing down at her. Tears welled up and began to fall as she threw her arms around Okita and began to sob uncontrollably. He just held her, whispering comforts and stroking her hair while she let go of all the pain that had been kept within her for so many years.

After she had calmed down, Takeuchi lay on the futon, her head resting on Okita's lap with the warmth from the fire easing the cold that seemed to invade her very soul. Okita was running his fingers through her hair but stopped when she reached her hand up to clutch tightly at his. He could feel her body tense as the pain within her chest flared up, eliciting a whimper that gave sound to her suffering.

Once her grip had loosened, Okita pulled her up into a semi-sitting position so that he was almost cradling her in his arms. He reached for a cup that had swirls of steam rising off it and held it to Takeuchi's lips.

"Slowly, okay?" Okita reminded Takeuchi as she sipped the medicinal drink. After she drank a few sips, he set the cup back on the floor and pulled a blanket over her body. Her eyes were closed and Okita assumed that the medicine had made her sleep, so he let his mind wander off in thought.

Over the past couple of weeks Takeuchi's health had declined and her symptoms had worsened. She was tired all the time, had trouble breathing, and had frequent coughing spells along with the other symptoms of her disease. Everyone knew what this meant, but Okita didn't want to believe it. Takeuchi Amaterasu was dying and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

He was startled from his thoughts by a cold touch on his cheek. He looked down to see Takeuchi gazing up at him with a sad look in her eyes.

"You were thinking about me, weren't you?" she questioned as Okita nodded slowly in response. "I could tell," she said softly before wincing and clutching her ankle. He reached for a compress, but she just shook her head. "My fluorite," she whispered painfully. Okita reached to the side of him where a pile of crystals lay on a blue cloth and grabbed a purple tinged stone and pressed it into Takeuchi's palm.

"Thank you," she whispered before holding the crystal just above her ankle, her eyes squeezed shut in pain and shallow breaths escaping her lips. After several minutes her breathing became normal and she slowly opened her eyes. "My powers are waning," Takeuchi said solemnly.

Okita sighed and looked down at the fire. For some reason Takeuchi's ankle started to constantly hurt and she could no longer walk from the pain. Along with the onset of the aforementioned pain and the worsening of her symptoms, the strength of her healing abilities had steadily lessened. "But you wrote down everything you know, so the knowledge won't be lost," he responded.

Takeuchi pursed her lips "Yes I did, but to me the knowledge and ability is purely unconscious instinct and action. For someone not of my blood to attempt to learn the art would be difficult, if not impossible."

"Don't think like that," Okita chided, about to say something else when Takeuchi pressed a finger to his lips to silence him.

"I'm going to die Soji," she said as tears welled up in her eyes, "what other way is there for me to think? The only comfort I have is the hope that my mother is waiting for me and I'll get to be with her again. I miss her so much and it's been so hard to live without her knowing that I caused her death. But the time I spent with you has helped ease the pain."

"Amaterasu," he said softly before Takeuchi continued speaking.

"Before I die, there is something that I've wanted to tell you for the longest time," she spoke through sobs as tears flowed down her cheeks "I love you Soji".

Okita stared speechlessly down at her, not knowing what to do or say.

Finally, Okita said, "You didn't have to tell me that; I've known that for a long time. I love you, too. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

Takeuchi looked up at Okita, a pained expression on her face. He was smiling down genuinely at her, his first real smile in a long time. Friend. Every time the word rang through her head, Takeuchi felt a little piece of her heart breaking. As she continued to look up at him, she noticed that quite suddenly, his smile faltered and his expression turned into one of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Okita took his thumb and wiped away a tear that started to run down Takeuchi's cheek. She didn't even know she had started crying until he had asked.

She shook her head and flashed a reassuring smile. "It's nothing."

Aside from the occasional coughs from each of them, they both sat in relative silence after that. Okita ran his fingers absentmindedly through Takeuchi's hair, trying to ignore the labored breathing from his friend.

Once, her breathing hitched, and Okita looked down at her, startled. She reassured him, told him it was nothing, said it just felt like the change in the weather was literally suffocating her; but even she could not deny that she was dying. She was scared, sure, but she wasn't going to be like Okita and just _pretend_, even for a while, that everything was going to be okay. She hated giving anyone that false sense of hope.

Takeuchi felt some movement by her head, and she saw that Okita had stopped stroking her head and that he was gripping tightly at the fabric of his kimono. She rolled her eyes skyward to see his expression looking tortured, agonized. He was looking down at his balled up fists in his lap, looking like he wanted to just dart out of the room.

"Soji...?"

For a split second, Okita was surprised, almost as though he had forgotten where he was and who he was with, but within a matter of seconds, his face returned to looking defeated.

"I killed him," he said, tightening the hold on his kimono fabric that his knuckled started to turn white.

Takeuchi struggled to sit up, she wanted to face Okita and see him clearly. Okita, on the other hand, used every fiber in his body to keep himself from looking at her. He pulled away from her when she placed a comforting hand over his fists. Although he was not looking directly at her, he knew that he had hurt her by shying away.

"What are you talking about?" Takeuchi asked her voice quieter now. She didn't know how he might have killed anyone--he hadn't held a sword in months.

"I killed him," Okita repeated, his voice on the verge of cracking, "your father."

Okita looked up when Takeuchi failed to say anything. He could not judge her reaction, because she merely looked at him, her eyes just slightly wider than before. He continued to watch her warily, but she never moved; it was as though she was frozen. Suddenly, tears began to roll down Takeuchi's cheeks, but she seemed just as confused as Okita when she noticed them.

"Amaterasu?" Okita asked cautiously.

"Why?" Takeuchi croaked. She paused momentarily to find her voice, and then she said accusingly, "Why did you kill him?"

Okita flinched at her harsh tone. "I thought you hated your father!" he said, trying to defend his actions.

"That gives you _no right_ to take matters into your own hands!"

As if to emphasize her point, there was a loud clap of thunder just outside the room that caused both of them to jump. Suddenly, Takeuchi's body convulsed and she jerked forward as she vomited blood onto the tatami. She then collapsed into Okita's arms, panting.

Okita looked down at the puddle of blood. It was probably three times the amount that he usually produced, and he found it disgusting. He held Amaterasu close to him, almost as though he was shielding her from something. He could both feel and hear her labored breathing as he cradled her against his chest, and he felt an undeniable sinking feeling as he realized that this was the end for her.

"When did you do it?" she whispered. She didn't bother asking how; since it was Okita, her father's death had obviously been by a sword.

"Last February," he answered her. "Before the Ikedaya. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done anything if I knew you would get so upset, but I thought--"

"Shh," Takeuchi said. "S'okay, really. I heard you talking to Yamazaki about it then, but I wanted you to tell me yourself."

Takeuchi looked up at him through her bangs. She knew why he looked so distraught, but she still hated seeing him so hurt and in pain. Even though she knew she was dying, she wanted to let Okita know that everything was going to be all right, so she patted his arm reassuringly. Her breathing hitched again and she winced, clutching tightly to Okita's sleeve as the pain in her chest flared up making it difficult to breathe.

"Are you all right?" Okita asked. He was worried because, despite being covered in sweat due to fever, Takeuchi's body felt very cold to him.

When Takeuchi was able to answer him, her voice was a whisper and her breathing shallow. "I'm tired," she told him.

She felt Okita's body begin to tremble and when she turned to look at him, she noticed that his face was screwed up, and he looked like he was trying to hold back tears. She reached up to touch his cheek, wiping her thumb below his eyes as he had done to her before. Okita hugged her tightly, allowing for a small smile to grace his lips.

"Then sleep," he said, his voice trembling just as much as his body. "I'll be right here."

The moment Okita saw Takeuchi close her eyes, he knew she would never open them again.

º º º

_Kudos again to Hellfire13 for helping edit this chapter. She also wrote the opening paragraphs in italics and the large section of Amaterasu waking up all the way to her telling Okita that she loves him. Well, I snuck a few paragraphs in between...but she did all the hard work, I promise. :) _

_Anyway, I learned something over the course of writing this chapter, which is, what I have been referring to thus far as the "raised deck" is actually called an "engawa." I learned that from Angrybee's "A Samurai's Lullaby." It's a really great story (on hiatus since 2005) that depicts Okita's last days as he revisits past memories and retells them in the form of a very long letter. It's a really great read._

_Regarding Yamamoto Hide (pronounced "Hee-day"): He's not a real person, I made him up. Yeah, that's right, I introduced a new character four chapters from the end...what of it? Haha. Don't worry though, he won't come out again (I hope); I just needed a way for Okita to find out the results of the Battle of Koshu Katsunuma. I also added him for some conflict, so basically his purpose in life is to be hated by all. Yay me._

_Also, I just noticed (okay, I say just, but I really mean sometime last month) that as of chapter eight, __Last Time of My Life__ has beaten out __Torn Apart__ in the amount of words per story. That scares me a little bit because TA is my longest story to date and is two full chapters longer than LToML is going to be, which is obviously still incomplete. Maybe it's because I continue to write the world's longest author's notes... I wonder how many words this story will be when it's complete._

_p.s. God, this chapter was a real killer. Ugh. Maybe it's because I took all of July off, but I had so much trouble with this chapter. Maybe I should burn it. Sorry about any grammar or punctuation errors; I couldn't bring myself to reread the chapter that many times, so the lack of editing may be evident._

_Next chapter: a small reason to celebrate, and one prominent figure meets his end._


	10. May

Last Time of My Life

_Thanks to everyone who continues to read this even after the awfulness that was chapter nine. Thanks especially to Hellfire13 who's very persistent in her efforts to get me inspired to write. She is my ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. :D_

º º º

Chapter Ten: May

After Takeuchi's death, Okita withdrew into his room and stayed there. He cried for days, and even passed out twice because as he wept, he had ignored his shortness of breath caused both by his being upset and the disease that plagued him. His condition worsened during the time he spent mourning, mostly because he would not sleep and still refused to eat anything.

Although Matsumoto did not want to impose on Okita while he grieved, the doctor still insisted that he continue with his daily check-ups. He found that Okita's fevers had returned with a vengeance and because of his deteriorating lungs, his coughing sounded worse than ever. Matsumoto began to grow even more concerned when he noticed how listless Okita had become; if he wasn't sobbing over the death of his friend, then he was staring at the woven threads in the tatami, his eyes glazed. Matsumoto worried that Okita was just going to make himself a lot sicker if he continued on this way.

Okita did not cry at Takeuchi's funeral. In fact, it was the only time after her death that he didn't shed a tear. He was devastated, of course, but the day of the funeral, he just felt so...numb; he made up for his lack of tears later that night.

A large number of patients at the hospital had been in attendance simply because Matsumoto had asked them to make an appearance, but no one really knew her. Even Satsuma member Yamamoto Hide had shown up. His reasons for arriving had been simply to taunt Okita, but even he could not find it in himself to pester the former Shinsengumi captain during such a grievous time. Okita's lack of any kind of emotion kind of set him off too; even _he_ felt a little sadness when a close comrade passed.

Takeuchi was buried in the secluded corner of the hospital near her old room. A young sakura tree had been planted at the gravesite and Matsumoto suggested the possibility of Takeuchi's soul being reincarnated into the blossoms next spring. He said that if that happened, the flower petals would be a vibrant cherry color instead of the typical pale pink. When Okita was told this, he withdrew further into himself, realizing that he wouldn't be around long enough to see if that happened.

Eventually, Matsumoto had had enough. It had been two weeks since Takeuchi's death and her funeral, and it was about time that Okita stopped being so overdramatic in his mourning. Matsumoto wanted Okita to live like he only had months left, not years. The fact that Okita really did only have months to live was purely coincidence.

He stalked towards Okita's room, carrying a small tray topped with a steaming cup of tea and two large onigiri. He slid Okita's door open, almost slamming it shut behind him. The room was terribly dark and Matsumoto could just barely make out Okita's silhouette, huddled in a corner with his knees pressed against his chest. Matsumoto walked over to Okita and placed the tray down in front of him. He then stood up and began lighting various candles around the room.

"How are you feeling today?" Matsumoto asked when he came back and sat in front of Okita.

Okita didn't answer him verbally, but he sighed heavily. With the light from the candles, Matsumoto could see the fresh film of tears over Okita's eyes as they threatened to spill over.

Matsumoto snorted impatiently. He would have to try a different tactic. "Happy birthday, Soji-kun," he said pushing the small tray closer to Okita's feet.

Okita's breath caught for a second. He looked up at Matsumoto slowly, and the doctor could see that his eyes now held within them a new spark for life, and he began to blink his tears away.

"What?" Okita said, his voice hoarse.

"Happy birthday," Matsumoto repeated. "Today's May 5th."

Okita wiped away any remaining tears with his palms. Today was his birthday. He was twenty-six years old. He struggled with the muscles in his face until he was able to give a small smile.

"Thank you," he said.

He grabbed one of the onigiri and nibbled on it. Usually, he would have loved to have eaten them, but ever since his illness had taken away his appetite, Okita could not find it in himself to enjoy any food offered to him. He once told Matsumoto that now everything he ate tasted like mud. He took a sip from his cup, realizing instantly that he was drinking green tea. It must have been because of the special occasion that the doctor allowed him something other than his usual diet of water.

"I really appreciate this, Matsumoto-san," Okita said. "I really needed the cheering up."

Matsumoto placed his hand on Okita's shoulder and smiled. "Of course," he said. "I know that Amaterasu's death was hard on you; it was for me as well."

Okita took a large bite of his onigiri, just to humor the doctor. Matsumoto had gone through so much trouble to get him these snacks and had the patience to deal with his sulky attitude that the least he could do was eat one of the rice treats. He had to force himself to swallow, but when he finally did he was glad. Once he had bitten halfway through the rice ball, Okita could taste the plum-flavored filling, and it was delicious.

"Don't eat those too fast or you'll get a stomachache," Matsumoto said sternly, but not unkindly. He was relieved and a little surprised to see that Okita had already moved on to his second onigiri. "Well, I've got patients to attend to. Please tell me you'll get some rest after you finish that?"

Okita smiled. "Actually, I wanted to sit outside and just enjoy the scenery. Would that be all right?"

"I suppose so," Matsumoto said with a slight frown, "but promise me you'll at least get a little sleep tonight."

The former Shinsengumi captain nodded. During his time of mourning, he had been so depressed that he had ignored so many of his human necessities, and finally his lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him. His full stomach probably wasn't helping any either. After Okita had assured Matsumoto that he would get some rest and thanked him again for the birthday meal, he followed the doctor out of his room, bidding him farewell as Matsumoto continued to another patient's room.

As if the death of his closest friend wasn't enough, it would have to be raining on his birthday too. Okita sighed heavily as he sank to the ground just beside his open shoji door. He leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching the steady downpour. He was twenty-six years old; he reminded himself of this over and over again. Not even he thought he could be so lucky. Hijikata and Kondo were even luckier, look at how old they were! Okita chuckled softly. He would love to see Hijikata's face at having been called old.

But Takeuchi Amaterasu was not old, nor would she ever grow to be. Her life had been stolen from her at the young age of twenty-three, and her twenty-fourth year would have started this September. Okita began to wonder if he would even see his next birthday. When Yamazaki had first diagnosed him last year, he had made it very clear that Okita would not live through the coming summer. The beginning of summer started in just a month's time. Did he have enough strength left in him to make it to what would have been Takeuchi's next birthday? If he could manage to hold on for that long, maybe there was a chance that he could defeat his life-consuming sickness. If he could just make it until September then that would prove that Yamazaki had been wrong.

He felt a tickling sensation on his left forearm, followed by an irritating sting. Okita's eyes flashed to the mosquito on his arm that had decided to make her next meal out of him. Without a moment's hesitation, he swatted at the mosquito before she even had the chance to fly off. The blood that had already been in the mosquito's belly, either from Okita or another of the insect's hosts, was smeared across Okita's arm when he killed her. He frowned when he saw it. Even without the use of a sword, he couldn't resist the act of spilling someone else's blood. He wiped furiously at the dead mosquito and the mess it had left behind with his kimono sleeve, rubbing his arm until it was red.

Frustrated, Okita threw his arms to his sides. This way he could not look at them without effort. Anything the color of blood disgusted him, whether it be actual blood or the obi on a kimono. Matsumoto told him it was all psychological; that the reason he detested the color so much was because he knew that the more blood that expelled from his mouth, the closer he was to death.

Okita sniffled, trying to hold back another wave of tears. Matsumoto had come to him to cheer him up, and it was about time that he buck up anyway. He just found it so hard. Not only because of Takeuchi's death, but he had always seen her as strong in everything she did, and the fact that it was some stupid disease that finally did her in was too much for Okita to bear. He figured that if Takeuchi succumbed to her illness, then what chance did he have of not doing the exact same thing? After all, in his current condition, he couldn't really say that he was much stronger than Takeuchi had been when she was alive.

He continued to sit on the raised deck for what felt like hours, watching the rain and listening as it bounced off the roof above him. Eventually, he could feel the need to sleep beginning to consume him, and he ignored his stiff muscles as he crawled to his feet and headed back to his room.

When he was settled in his futon beneath a pile of thick blankets, Okita yawned and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him. He soon felt a familiar tightness and his chest, so he sat up quickly and reached for his cup of tea. He coughed loudly, placing the ceramic cup beneath his lips just in time to catch the stream of blood at forced itself from his lungs and out his mouth. He shuddered once, before lying back down, plagued too much by his exhaustion to see any real reason to care.

º º º

It was now three days after Okita's birthday. He was usually in a better mood than he had been before then, but even still, he did have his down times. He had just had one of these such times and now his eyes were red and puffy from another bout of crying, and he attempted to clear his head of any morbid thoughts by taking a walk around the hospital. He had heard word that another soldier from the war had been brought in last night for treatment, so he was curious to find out whom.

He continued across the raised deck, stopping once to sweep his eyes over the terrace garden. It was early afternoon on a fairly sunny day, so he was surprised when he saw that the square-shaped garden was completely empty. Frowning, Okita stepped off the raised deck, feeling the soft gravel crunch beneath his tabi. As he turned the corner around the giant maple at the center of the garden, he faltered and his heart skipped a beat. There, on his favorite bench on the shadiest side of the garden, sat the soldier he had heard about from the other patients.

"Hijikata-san!"

Okita jogged the short distance over to Hijikata, nearly tackling him as the vice-commander stood up to greet him. He felt Hijikata go rigid in his embrace, and when Okita turned to look up at him, he saw that Hijikata had gotten noticeably pale.

"What's wrong?" he asked instinctively taking a step backwards.

"My foot," Hijikata responded through clenched teeth.

When Okita looked down, he noticed that Hijikata's left foot was tightly bound, and he seemed to be putting all his weight on his other foot in order to balance himself. It was then that Okita also saw the walking stick beside the bench that Hijikata must have been using as a crutch.

"Oh." He helped Hijikata back onto the bench, and only after he sat down beside him did he ask, "What happened?"

"It's a stress fracture," Hijikata said massaging his temples, his foot in obvious pain. "It happened during a battle."

Okita nodded, but kept all comments to himself. Even without medical training, he knew exactly what a stress fracture was and what it entailed. It was a pretty common injury for swordsmen in this day and age, and having once experienced one in his Shieikan days, Okita knew how painful it could be. They usually made themselves known when a swordsman stabbed their foot too hard against the ground while parrying an attack.

"I have something of yours," Hijikata said digging through one of his kimono sleeves. He pulled out a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Okita. When Okita continued to stare dumbfounded, he added, "It's Yamazaki's letter to you. I got it translated."

Okita didn't say anything as he took the paper from Hijikata's hand; he was too preoccupied thinking about how the letter had gotten back into Hijikata's hands in the first place. Okita had received the letter months ago, and when it had suddenly disappeared the next day, he thought he had lost it. Apparently, Hijikata had snuck off with it without his knowledge.

"Thank you," he managed to say.

His hands were trembling as he started to unfold the parchment, and he didn't know why. He almost dropped the letter several times. The fact that Yamazaki had addressed this letter solely to him made Okita more than just a little nervous to see what it contained. He was curious to know whether it contained any information pertaining to his illness, and if it did, what exactly would Yamazaki have to say that he hadn't been able to tell Okita when he was alive?

Okita stopped his attempts at unfolding the letter when Hijikata suddenly stood up beside him. He did not look at Okita as he started to limp back towards his room.

"W-Where are you going?" Okita stammered. For some reason, he didn't want to be alone.

"I thought you may want some privacy."

Okita frowned as he watched Hijikata slowly hobble away. He couldn't have taken another three steps before Okita had finally managed to open the letter in his hands. He read over the kanji quickly, pausing only for a second before reading it again a little bit slower. After reading it for a second time, he read it even slower a third time, making sure he understood each brushstroke of Yamazaki's translated words. Okita gasped, and then shook his head slowly, feeling faint.

Hijikata heard a soft groan behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Okita stumbling towards him before suddenly passing out. Hijikata was able to catch Okita before he hit the ground, but he began to grow increasingly worried when Okita stayed limp in his arms. Trying to hide his panic, but unsure of what else to do, Hijikata called out for Matsumoto. He probably stood there for a little under five minutes before catching sight of the doctor coming towards him.

"What's wrong?" Matsumoto asked taking in the situation. He was immediately alerted to Okita's still form. "Let's take him inside, quickly."

He helped Hijikata move Okita inside and lie him on the futon in his room. The next thing Matsumoto did was wrap Okita securely with a few blankets. He studied Okita carefully before doing a brief check-up to assess his condition.

Hijikata sat far enough away that he wouldn't bother Matsumoto in his assessment, but just close enough to take any quick action if needed. He twiddled his thumbs in his lap anxiously, unable to relieve his nervousness by any other means. He gazed at Okita's flushed face intensively, only able to take a guess at how sick the former captain really was.

"I don't think I've ever seen his fever this high before," Matsumoto said startling Hijikata out of his daze and confirming his suspicions. "I'm glad you were with him when this happened; I would hate to think of the state he'd be in if we hadn't gotten him inside as quickly as we did."

Hijikata didn't say anything. He couldn't help but think that this was somehow his fault. Okita had seemed all right when he had arrived earlier, but it was after that note that...

"What were the two of you doing when this happened?" Matsumoto asked.

"I gave him a note," Hijikata said softly. "A letter, actually. It was from Yamazaki."

He reached under Okita's blankets, blindly searching for his right hand. When he found it, he realized that his fingers were still tightly wrapped around the piece of parchment he had given to him not twenty minutes ago. Despite Okita's weakened condition, Hijikata had a difficult time prying the letter out of his grip. As he removed his own hand, Okita whimpered piteously.

"I brought it to him back in March," Hijikata continued. "The letter had been found on Yamazaki's corpse, addressed to Soji. Considering where the letter was found, it was extremely waterlogged and the kanji was badly smeared. Without him knowing, I took the letter with me when the Koyo Chimbutai last left Edo and hired someone to see if it could be salvaged and translated. This," Hijikata held up the parchment, "is the finished product."

"And what does it say?" Matsumoto asked curiously.

"I don't know. I figured that if it was only addressed to Soji that it was something solely for his knowledge."

Matsumoto frowned, nodding his understanding. Beside him, Okita began to fidget in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. He cried out once, a sickly, tortured kind of sound.

"Poor thing," Matsumoto said sounding pained. He reached out to wipe some of Okita's sweated-streaked bangs from his face. "I hope this episode doesn't last for too long."

"You don't think this," Hijikata held up the letter again, "has any connection to his high fever, do you?"

"I don't know how it could, but then, it couldn't have helped him either. You said he had just finished reading it when he fainted?" Matsumoto said that last part with uncertainty making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"Yes. Do you think I should...?"

"Why not? It can't hurt to try," Matsumoto said. "If it's from Yamazaki-kun as you say it is, then maybe it will help us treat his condition."

Hijikata did not touch the letter immediately. He turned to Okita who had started muttering nonsense, a variety of words that would never string together to complete an intelligent sentence. He watched as Matsumoto rang a washcloth over a basin that must have been used to subdue one of Okita's earlier fevers and placed it on his forehead. Okita's mumblings came to an abrupt stop and he sighed as the cool washcloth began to ease his temperature.

Taking this as some kind of sign to continue, Hijikata unfolded the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He read the letter once to himself and then aloud for Matsumoto to hear. Because the original copy of the letter had been so terribly abused, the translation must have been difficult because some of the wording was awkward, and although not exactly what he would have expected from Yamazaki, Hijikata's face remained passive until he had finished reading.

"_Okita,_

_I have found out some news recently and I think you might find it useful. As I'm sure you know, Takeuchi Amaterasu is a crystal user in the arts of healing. It appears to seem like Takeuchi is an illegitimate child because her mother and was married outside her clan. The only reason I tell you this is I think her mother's clan will want to retrieve any information on Takeuchi-san's crystal using if she went to pass away. I just want you to __**be careful**__._

_Yamazaki Susumu_"

Hijikata refolded the paper and placed it on the tatami before him. He was glad that he had found a translator cheap, but he was disappointed in their ability to get a clear understanding of Yamazaki's words. If he hadn't have been the tactful vice-commander that he was, and had not known Yamazaki for as long as he had, understanding the warning would have been difficult thanks to the translator's poor word placement and lack of proof-reading.

"Oh dear," Matsumoto said, frowning as he looked down at Okita who now appeared to be sleeping soundly. It would be a mystery to know how long that would last. "Do you think we should do something?"

"I don't think we'll have much of a choice. With Takeuchi's death, I'm almost positive that her ancestors will come here. I just hope Soji will be well enough to deal with them when the time comes."

º º º

_Yeah, so I started school again. When I first started this story, the semester was almost over and I could afford to dedicate more time than necessary to write up these chapters. But with the beginning of another semester and with classes like biology, math, and my second years in spanish and government, I don't think I'll have as much leisurely time. Please understand that my grades are more important than my fanfiction._

_Now, about the actual chapter: whatever chapter before this that I said was my favorite has now been replaced by this one, and I don't know why. No, May 5th is not my birthday. In Japan, this day is celebrated as Boy's, or Children's, Day, and although it was not yet recognized as a holiday during the time period that this story is written, I thought it would give Okita a sense of innocence to be born on this day (since I couldn't find his actual birthday anywhere online)._

_Next chapter: ??_


	11. June

Last Time of My Life

_Ooh, guess what. In biology, I learned why people with tuberculosis (though we talked about asthma) become lethargic during certain stages of the disease. Well, we briefly went over the topic, we're supposed to go over it more in depth later, but it has something to do with the rise in carbon dioxide levels, which in turn, increases the level of ATP (energy) used to rid the lungs of the CO2. Yeah...somethin' like that._

_p.s. I have always wanted to use the word "metronome" in my writings. See if you can find it in this chapter._

º º º

Chapter Eleven: June

When Okita first woke from his fevered sleep, he was shivering so badly that Matsumoto began to wonder if he had suffered any lasting damage from the effects of his fever. He was relieved when he was able to rule that out, telling Okita that it was just a residual effect that would pass in a few hours.

The first thing Okita wanted to know was what happened before he passed out.

"You received a letter from Yamazaki-kun," Matsumoto said, "that spoke of Amaterasu-chan's relatives."

Okita nodded, frowning. He did remember that. He remembered that Yamazaki's words had seemed like some sort of warning, although he couldn't understand why. Okita knew that Amaterasu had never been on good terms with her mother's family, and he could only wonder why they would need to make an unexpected visit to see her. It was going to be his job to tell them that she was dead.

"What do they want with me?"

"I don't know if they do."

Okita had not realized that Hijikata had been in the room when he woke up, so he was surprised to see him sitting in a corner of the room, folding Yamazaki's letter and stashing it away in his sleeve.

"Oh, Hijikata-san," Okita said. "How long have you been there?"

"Yamazaki-kun stated that Takeuchi-san's relatives might be coming, but never did he say they wanted anything with you," Hijikata said, ignoring Okita's question. "Takeuchi-san's mother comes from a long line of skilled crystal-users and she passed down some of her crystals to her daughter...maybe these relatives just want to come take back what's rightfully theirs."

"You mean the crystals?" Matsumoto asked.

"That, and I'm sure Takeuchi-san had some written texts regarding the usage of her work."

Okita listened to the quick exchange between Hijikata and Matsumoto. Hijikata made it sound as though Amaterasu's relatives wanted nothing to do with him, but if that were the case, then why had Yamazaki gone through the trouble of writing him that letter? And why did he feel like denying Takeuchi's relatives the things they sought? During his last conversation with her, Takeuchi said that she had written down all of her knowledge of crystal-using. He remembered her saying that it would be almost in impossible for someone not to her lineage to even understand what she had written. Is that what her relatives were coming to try to prevent?

"Soji-kun?" Matsumoto asked, pulling Okita from his train of thought. "How are you feeling?"

"Actually," Okita said stretching his arms high over his head. "I feel different; I feel...better."

Matsumoto frowned. "Do not misunderstand this feeling, Soji-kun. You feel different because you were probably very miserable during your fevered state. What you are feeling now is no different than how you've always been; you are in no means better."

Okita did not particularly like how Matsumoto said _how you've always been_. He had not _always_ been ill, so for Matsumoto to say it as though it wasn't something out of the ordinary upset him. Although Matsumoto was probably right, the fact was that Okita did feel better. He felt that he could go outside to do all the training he'd missed while being sick, but the truth was that he couldn't. And he would never be able to.

He watched as Hijikata got up from his spot in the corner and came over to kneel beside him. Hijikata ruffled his hair playfully and smirked down at him.

"I forgot to wish you a happy birthday," Hijikata said. He chuckled at Okita's stunned expression. "When I first saw you earlier, you looked like you had been crying; you distracted me. That's why I gave you the letter instead."

Okita looked down, embarrassed. He had just finished another episode of crying over Amaterasu before meeting with Hijikata. He could only imagine how red and puffy his eyes had been. It was no wonder Hijikata had gotten distracted.

He was caught off guard by a sudden coughing fit. He doubled over as spasms of pain ripped through his chest. From the corner of his eye, Okita thought he saw Hijikata move forward to steady him, and Matsumoto put his arm out to stop him. Although Hijikata had had medical training in the past, Matsumoto was now Okita's primary physician, so it was his job to determine whether or not Okita needed assistance. Okita's coughing was over with quickly, but it took a moment for him to catch his breath.

He was still hunched over when Matsumoto said to Hijikata, "We should probably let him rest now; he's had a long, tiring day." He turned to Okita and added, "Here."

Matsumoto slid a cup of water across the tatami and place a square sheet of paper in from of Okita. On top of the paper was a small mound of white powder. Okita knew it was another form of medicine, but as to what kind and what symptoms it eased he was unsure.

Beside Okita, Hijikata nodded and copied the doctor when he stood up. Matsumoto looked back at Okita warily, hoping against hope that he would get the sleep he so desperately needed--he was positive the medicine he had just placed out was good for at least four hours. If Okita didn't sleep, then he prayed that he would stay in his room and rest; anything that didn't require a lot of energy was best.

Once Matsumoto began to walk towards the shoji door, Hijikata also stopped to turn back at Okita. What he was thinking was a mystery, but his gaze was intense as he stared down at the frail being Okita had become. He soon realized that Matsumoto had left the room, so he shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued after him.

"How's Kondo-san?" Okita asked suddenly when he was sure Matsumoto had already gone.

Hijikata paused, but did not turn back around. "Go to sleep," he murmered.

Okita pouted. "I'm fine," he said to Hijikata's retreating back.

º º º

That had been three weeks ago.

Now, Okita could barely find the strength to get out of bed. During the past few weeks, Okita, whose immune system was nearly non-existent, caught a cold that almost killed him. He continued to have very high fevers and Matsumoto began to worry that he was going to suffer long-term damage to his brain if his temperatures continued the way they did. Okita found breathing difficult and painful. His constant coughing made him so tired that he rarely did anything else other than sleep.

If he wasn't sleeping, then he was being forced to drink something in order to keep his body hydrated. He usually needed help with sitting because he was often too weak to hold himself up. He hated what he had become; he thought himself as useless and needy as a newborn babe.

"Come on now," Matsumoto said to him one day. As of late the doctor felt the need to wake Okita after so many hours to make sure that he was still breathing. The thought always made Okita shudder. "This won't take long."

Okita struggled to lift his head from his pillow until he felt a strong pair of hands lift him so that he was now sitting. He felt the damp washcloth slide off his forehead and he whimpered feebly. Matsumoto refolded the cloth and placed it over the back of Okita's neck.

"Drink this."

He felt the cool edge of the ceramic cup touch his lips and he managed to lift his hand to grab it and take a drink. The water irritated his throat and he began to cough violently, practically dry-heaving. When he finished he was gasping for air. He felt his exhaustion beginning to consume him again and that made his mind foggy, making it difficult for him to concentrate on what he was seeing, doing, or feeling.

"Can I lie down?" he asked thickly.

Matsumoto nodded, his expression saddened despite the small smile that graced his lips. He removed the washcloth from Okita's neck and helped him lie down so that he was comfortable again. He then took the washcloth and rinsed it in a small wooden basin before using it to wipe Okita's face and arms free of sweat.

Okita ducked into his sheets, wincing as he coughed into his hands. He was sure his chest was about to burst, and yet was surprised when he realized that he always managed to come out of it alive. He felt Matsumoto pat his shoulder paternally.

"You get some rest now," the doctor said. "I'll come check on you again in a little while."

Okita closed his eyes, feeling the vibrations in the tatami as Matsumoto got up and left him. He listened as Matsumoto slid his shoji door closed and continued to make his rounds throughout the hospital. The room was silent after that, but only until Okita realized that he was wheezing.

After a few still minutes, the metronome that was his labored breathing began to lull him into much needed sleep. He was always both physically and mentally exhausted that sometimes he just wished it would just end already. Had he not suffered enough these past eleven months? The coughing and bleeding, and the weakness and fatigue; it was just too much for him to stand for much longer.

As if to validate his point, Okita whimpered feebly after another round of coughs left him painfully weak and out of breath. He must have been asleep longer than he thought, because he noticed by the shadows in his room that the position of the sun had shifted ever-so-slightly. He yawned loudly, able to stifle another cough by clearing his throat.

The sound of voices outside his room peaked his interest enough that he managed to lift his head from his pillow, attempting to discern between the voices. There were two women, one old and one young, that much he could tell, and maybe another with them...a male? Despite his deteriorated state, Okita found the strength within him to pull himself onto his elbows, into an awkward sitting position, and finally fully upright. He leaned forward onto his knees, allowing himself a moment or two to collect himself; due to Matsumoto's strict orders, this was Okita's first real exercise in days.

He crept towards the door and slid it open. If it hasn't been mentioned before, Okita's room faced the west side of the hospitalized room for dying patients. Separating the edge of the raised deck in front of his room and the main hospital was a small patch of lawn adjacent the terrace garden. There was nothing special about this piece of land--it had a few juvenile Kousa Dogwood trees and random patches of grass that dotted the almost barren piece of land--but he found it peaceful nonetheless.

He swept his tired eyes across the landscape and saw them, Takeuchi's relatives. There were three of them in all. There was a tall, brawny-looking man with a spear in his hand, a katana and wakashi strapped at his side. Okita was not going to let the man's white hair fool him; he was by no means old, and he looked fitter than Okita ever had in his entire life. With him was a tall elderly woman and a girl not many years younger than himself, with vibrant golden-red hair. For some reason, she had her eyes closed.

"Who are you?" Okita asked as he moved himself away from his room and to the edge of the raised deck to greet them. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before." He put on a fake, but pretty convincing smile as he waited for these people to tell him who he already suspected they were.

The old woman stared at him warily. "We're looking for Amaterasu," she said confirming what Okita already knew. "By the way, it's rude to demand to know someone's name without first introducing yourself."

Okita waited before replying. The short walk he had taken from his doorway had just about exhausted the little strength he had, and he was having a difficult time catching his breath.

"My apologies...," he said before pausing to take a breath. "I'm Okita."

The elderly woman smirked. "Okita Sojiro-san. I've heard you're one of the Shinsengumi's top men, under the commander and vice-commander, of course."

"Not anymore," the redheaded girl said matter-of-factly. "He's ill."

The woman ignored her. "This is Ayako," she said motioning towards the girl, who bowed upon being introduced. "That is Isamu, and I am Nagahisa Chiyoko. I act as clan elder to my village. Now tell me: where is Amaterasu?"

Okita pulled nervously at a loose thread on his kimono sleeve. He did not like this woman; her dignified air made her seem haughty and arrogant and he wasn't currently in the mood to deal with someone like that. It tired him.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Takeuchi-san passed away a few months ago."

"I am aware that--" Chiyoko began.

"Over there!"

Okita turned towards the teenage girl, Ayako. In one fluid motion she had lifted her arm to point to Okita's left in the direction of Amaterasu's old room, and she had quickly opened her eyes revealing milky-white orbs. Okita then realized that she was blind.

"You shouldn't point, Ayako," Chiyoko said sternly, her bright blue eyes burning. They were Amaterasu's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Obaa-san," Ayako said grinning, "but Takeuchi-san's over there."

"Are you sure?" Isamu asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was deep and somewhat authoritive, very similar to Hijikata's.

"Yes," Ayako said, her face remained unchanged, but her tone was impatient.

Okita sighed. He could feel his cheeks burning with another fever and he began to wish that he had just stayed in his room and slept. If Takeuchi's relatives visited merely to collect her things, then maybe Okita could just steer them in the right direction and be on his not-so-merry way. Matsumoto was sure to scold him if he found him wandering around outside.

No one said anything after that. Okita was feeling weaker by the minute and wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend that being outside wasn't affecting him. He was almost tempted to go back inside and leave them all standing there. He coughed suddenly, loudly, bringing them back to attention.

"Will you take us to her grave?" Chiyoko asked, her exalted tone temporarily leaving her.

Okita nodded reluctantly. He watched as the elderly woman grabbed Ayako's hand and led her, followed by Isamu, onto the raised deck. Okita took them around the left-hand corner of his room and down a ways until they were standing right in front of the room Amaterasu used to occupy not too many months ago. Okita raised his chin indicating the grave before them. He thought about following them as they stepped off the raised deck to pay their respects, but he had to stop short and lean against one of the deck's posts to steady himself.

Amaterasu's gravesite below the sakura tree had changed ever-so-slightly. The mound of dirt that had been there before indicating a fresh burial was weather-beaten and looked just as flat as the rest of the ground surrounding it. Directly in front of the tree was a small, rectangular stone standing vertically at the head of the grave. Chiseled into the rock was Amaterasu's name.

The Nagahisa clan, as Okita had come to know them, and where he figured Amaterasu's mother hailed from, stayed in front of the grave for several minutes. He noticed that the young girl Ayako would turn her head around to face him, and whenever she turned back towards the grave, she always tugged on Chiyoko's sleeve as if she wished to tell her something.

Okita felt his knees buckle beneath him and he gripped at the post to keep himself upright. He coughed, shaking him so much that he slid himself to the ground to stop himself from falling off the raised deck. He watched as Ayako turned back towards him, staring with her unseeing eyes almost as if she were studying him. When she turned back around she did not tug on Chiyoko's sleeve.

He sighed again, this time feeling a sense of contentment. He was absolutely spent from all the effort he'd put into walking and talking, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his room, crawl beneath the covers on his futon, and go to sleep. His fever was getting worse and he could feel as his chest constricted upon itself leaving him panting as he struggled to contract a breath.

When he looked back towards Takeuchi's relatives, he saw that the young girl, Ayako, was coming towards him. He was a little surprised to see her walking on her own; he had only seen her walking with the clan elder, but for some reason he was not at all surprised to see how fluidly she moved towards him, not once faltering on her way over. He turned his head and covered his mouth to mask a few coughs, and waited for Ayako to reach him.

She slowly approached Okita, stopping just in front of him. "You were precious to her," she said solemnly. Okita knew instantly who she spoke of, but he did not get the chance to respond right away. "But she was not precious to you--"

"How dare you," Okita cut her off harshly, his voice a little hoarse from coughing. "I cared about Amaterasu a great deal."

"Not as much as you could have," Ayako replied knowingly, a smirk gracing her features. "You were her _whole world_--a world that was shattered the moment you denied her love, when you acknowledged her as only a friend." Okita clenched his teeth in an effort to remain calm, to stop himself from aggravating his condition. "Why you would do that is a mystery even to me. Everyone could see that she loved you, but you yourself, were blinded by that love. And now she suffers alone in the darkness of her death, heartbroken and unloved, because of you."

Okita remained silent for several seconds, unsure of how to respond to this stranger's brutal verbal attack. He took in a breath, gasping as a jolt of pain ripped through him.

"Is there something you wanted," Okita started, clutching his chest, "or did you just come here to insult me?"

"Oh no," Ayako said, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Obaa-san just wanted to collect Takeuchi-san's belongings."

Okita's only reply was a small nod of his head. He was shaking from the pain in his chest, and he was growing increasingly lightheaded due to his being unable to breathe properly.

"What are you doing out here?"

Okita turned his head slowly, afraid that he might actually faint, and met the disbelieving eyes of Hijikata--disbelieving because the vice-commander had not expected Okita to go against Matsumoto's strict orders that he stay in bed. Hijikata kneeled beside him to see how he was doing. Okita wondered what he looked like.

"They wanted to see her," he managed in between gasps. He coughed again and winced.

This time, Chiyoko and the others all turned. She and Isamu walked over, and Chiyoko grabbed Ayako's hand when she reached Hijikata and Okita.

"We're finished, Okita-san," Chiyoko said, ignoring Hijikata completely. Okita nodded, unable to form any words.

"I told you that he's ill," Ayako muttered, the smile she had given Okita earlier now a demeaning little smirk. Okita answered her by clamping both of his hands over his mouth and lurching forward as he coughed violently.

"He needs to be taken inside," Hijikata said adamantly.

He reached forward as if to scoop Okita off the ground, but the former Shinsengumi captain shook his head and pushed him away; he was determined to do this with as little help as possible. When he was unable to even get up on his own, he allowed Hijikata to pull him up, and once he was standing, made way for the closest room to him--Amaterasu's.

As soon as Okita stepped into Amaterasu's room he immediately wished he hadn't. It had been a while since her death, but because Okita had received a fresh copy of Yamazaki's letter about the visiting relatives just last month, the room had remained uncleaned and just as Amaterasu had left it. It even smelled like a sick room and it made Okita a little nauseated; he wondered if his room smelled the same and he had just gotten used to it.

He took a seat beside the door, remembering that Amaterasu had died in this very room, and hoped to get some fresh air and push the scent of death from his mind. Hijikata limped in, his stress fracture from last month still not completely healed, and sat beside him, waiting for the Nagahisas to enter before sliding the door shut behind them.

Ayako and Isamu sat down across from Okita and Hijikata, but the moment Chiyoko entered the room, she began walking the perimeter of the room, collecting a number of things that used to belong to Amaterasu; there were a few handwritten scrolls, a small paperback textbook, and then a bag of what Okita could only assume was filled with crystals.

Trying to keep his mind off the different smells in the room and all the various ailments that he was currently suffering, Okita turned to Isamu and Ayako. One thing he had missed about Isamu before was in the intensity and uniqueness of his eyes; his left eye was a deep purple, while his right was an emerald green. Okita had never before seen something so bizarre. He thought about commenting on them, but something told him he would be bettering off staying quiet.

"These are Chieko's," Chiyoko said peering into a satchel full of crystals. Okita knew from his many years with her that Chieko was Amaterasu's mother.

"Yes," Okita said. "Amae-chan referred to them often, but rarely used anything other than her own crystals." He had not meant for his childhood name for her to slip out, and soon regretted saying anything when Chiyoko looked down at him disapprovingly.

"I am wondering," Chiyoko began as she gathered her things and took a seat between Ayako and Isamu, "how did you know we were coming? Ayako herself has the ability to see people and events from great distances, but that is a clan trait, and even then, it is very rare. You, on the other hand, did not seem at all phased by our sudden and unannounced visit here."

"Yamazaki Susumu, a Shinsengumi spy, had been keeping tabs on the Nagahisa family before his death in early February. His motives for doing this are still unclear to me and I probably will never know his true reasons. I knew about this, of course, but I also did not feel the need to press him on what I considered to be his own personal business," Hijikata added when he noticed Okita's shocked expression. "Yamazaki informed Soji that it was possible that you might come."

"I see," Chiyoko said, closing any other opportunities for discussion.

Okita felt his fever spike another degree, and although lacking in any sort of medical education, he was sure he was nearing the point of convulsion. He began to break out in a cold sweat, but was determined to show the Nagahisas anymore of his weakness.

"It's time to go," Ayako said suddenly, loudly.

Isamu nodded, and Okita watched as both he and Chiyoko exchanged glances before standing up. Chiyoko reached for Ayako's hand, forcing both herself and the young girl to bow their thanks.

"We will now be taking our leave from here, Okita Sojiro-san," Chiyoko said as she began to turn away from him and Hijikata. "I thank you for allowing me to take with me the things that I sought, and I will tell you that you will not see us again."

With that being said they were gone, Isamu, the last one, closing the door behind them. Okita felt his shoulders fall, and he couldn't help but chuckle when he realized that in his poor excuse at attempting to look healthier than he was, he had even gone so far as sitting up perfectly straight, something that he now noticed left his back and shoulders extremely stiff. He suddenly fell forward, managing to catch himself with his hands before falling flat against the tatami. The movement startled Hijikata, who reached out to steady him.

"_You_ need to get back to bed," he said, although not harshly.

"I know, I'm sorry," Okita said giving Hijikata a small smile. "But not right now, okay? I don't think I can make it."

"Are you trying to get me in trouble too? Matsumoto-san is already going to be angry with you for leaving your room."

"I know, I know, but I'm just so tired. Besides, he'll be even more upset if I try to push myself."

Okita coughed at that moment, sucking in a mouthful of air as his chest tightened painfully. The pain was so bad that he started seeing stars. Hijikata saw his face twist with discomfort, and he sighed, realizing that there really was nothing else he could do. He grabbed Okita's shoulders and helped him lay so that his head as lying against his lap. Okita flashed him another smile and whispered a muddled "thank you" before succumbing to his disease-ridden body's desire for rest.

º º º

_Nagahisa Chiyoko, Nagahisa Ayako, Nagahisa Isamu, Takeuchi Nagahisa Chieko, and Takeuchi Amaterasu belong to Hellfire13._

_Obaa-san generally means "grandmother", but can also be used to show respect towards a female senior citizen. In the case of Chiyoko, Akayo is using the latter form of the word's meaning._

_Now, I would like to apologize to everyone, but mostly to Hellfire13 (if she hasn't already figured out what a sad, pathetic person I am). Meichan4 came and stayed with me for a week, and so I convined Hellfire13 and myself that I would still find time to write and update this story. Obviously that didn't happen, and you can put the blame not only on my laziness, but also the random stomach flu I contracted last week that attributed to the worst four days of my life. I could not look at or smell food without getting sick, and that was a downright shame, because just the night before I got sick, Meichan4 baked some delicious cookies. But that's enough of that. Just know that I didn't get around to updating, and that I am truly sorry for that._

_Did anyone know that Nanae Chrono came out with a new manga series? Yeah, I saw it at Borders a few months ago (and I'm just now writing about it here), and of course, I had to buy it. Well, I still have yet to read it. Everytime I flip through the pages it looks more and more like a shounen ai manga, but there's a couple of vampires that look to be part of the main plotline, so I'll try not to complain too much. ;)_

_EDIT Regarding Vassalord, Nanae Chrono's other manga series: Ahh, gay vampires. Nuff said._

_Next chapter: ?? (final chapter)_


	12. July

Last Time of My Life

_And so the end has come at last. It's kind of hard to believe that I actually finished a twelve chapter story in less than a year. That's gotta be some kind of world record (for me anyway)._

_Oh, and OMG (yeah, I said it), as of last chapter, this story has officially hit 50,000 words. Wow._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Peacemaker Kurogane or its characters._

º º º

_"It was a cough, apparently--a man's cough...a cough devoid of any zest for life or love, which didn't come in spasms, but sounded as if someone were stirring feebly in a terrible mush of decomposing organic material."_ (Thomas Mann, _The Magic Mountain_)

Chapter Twelve: July

Okita lied still on his futon, curled into a tight ball in a poor attempt to block out the pain. His breathing came in small, tired-sounding gasps, and his will to keep himself alive slowly began to ebb away. Yet, despite his deteriorating body, he now slept soundly, too exhausted to do anything else.

A year came and went in the blink of an eye. In that time, no one had really seen how much Okita's health had deteriorated except for Okita himself, but he tried only to remember the good things about the past year. He was reunited with his childhood friend and he had gotten the opportunity to fight alongside Kondo and the others, which was something that always made his day.

At the beginning of the month, he had requested that his Shinsengumi haori and his katana and wakizashi be brought to Matsumoto's hospital in Edo; they were the last and only materialistic things he had to remind himself of the life he had before the disease. If he'd had the stamina to he would have stared at them for hours, eager to remember what it felt like to be a swordsman and to be well again, but unfortunately he was only able to keep his eyes open for a few minutes before they grew heavy with sleep.

These days Matsumoto rarely left his side, and when he did, he was not gone long. No longer able to ignore Okita's painful cries, Matsumoto reverted back to a treatment he had often used with Amaterasu; there was now a single stick of opium incense constantly burning in a corner of the room. The drug both eased his pain and quieted his coughs, which in turn, allowed him to rest easier, but in order to keep himself sane, Matsumoto refused to enter Okita's room without some sort of mask to block out the scent of the drug.

He looked down at Okita's sleeping form, watching as his chest stopped mid-rise causing him to wake suddenly, his lungs starving for oxygen. Okita sat up in a panic, clutching his chest, his eyes wide with fear.

"Shh, it's okay," Matsumoto said putting his hands on Okita's shoulders. "See, you're all right; just calm down and take some deep breaths."

Okita sat there panting, trying to do as Matsumoto instructed him. He breathed in deeply through his nose, filling his lungs with the one thing they craved. Within a few seconds he was breathing easier.

"Feeling better?" Matsumoto asked him.

Okita nodded, not wanting to open his mouth for fear that the episode would start all over again if he let any air escape him. He saw Matsumoto's eyes shine--he was smiling behind his mask. He felt Matsumoto grab his hands. It was only then that he realized they were shaking badly.

"There, there," Matsumoto said patting his hands. "I know that was scary, but you're all right now."

But Okita's trembling did not cease. "I thought I was going to die," he whispered. His whole body shook as he coughed, a wet cough alluding to the condition of his lungs and confirming Matsumoto's secret suspicions.

Matsumoto patted his hands again, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. "Let me take a listen to your lungs."

He reached for a peculiar instrument around his neck. If stretched, the instrument would have taken the shape of a Y. The head of the instrument were plugs to be placed into both ears, while the tail was used to listen to the patient's lungs. The instrument was called a stethoscope. Matsumoto had heard of these instruments before, but the design was changed often, eventually reaching perfection about ten years earlier. He had finally saved up enough money to buy one.

Okita's lungs sounded horrible. If he were to ask the doctor, Matsumoto would have told him just that; there was just no other way to explain it. When Okita breathed, Matsumoto listened to his wheezing during both inhaling and exhaling. Matsumoto also heard a crackling sound in his lungs--something that couldn't possibly be any good. Okita complied readily when asked to cough, gasping suddenly soon after.

"What's wrong?" Matsumoto asked, looking up at him.

"My sides hurt when I cough," he said, trying to hide as he winced.

Matsumoto sighed, beginning to collect his things. He knew what it meant. Just as Hijikata had developed a stress fracture on his foot due to over strenuous exercise, Okita too was more than likely experiencing this with his ribs. There was nothing Matsumoto could do to help ease the pain in his sides for Okita's new pain was brought on by his constant coughing, and he was already using opium incense to help with that.

"Why don't you try resting for a little bit longer?" Matsumoto suggested. "You look like you could use it, and you won't be in as much pain if you're asleep."

Okita nodded, yawning. He was tired, and he always was these days. With the help of his doctor, Okita managed to lay back down on his futon beneath his thick layer of blankets. He watched as Matsumoto replaced his incense with a fresh one, finally standing up to leave. It did not take much longer after that before the drug had lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

Matsumoto exited the room looking worn. He wiped his hands on a dampened towel that he had taken from Okita's room, drying his hands on his pant legs, and then removed the paper mask from his face. He saw Hijikata sitting on the raised deck just outside the room, waiting for him.

"How is he?"

"He's sleeping..."

Again, Hijikata thought, frowning. Since the departure of Takeuchi's relatives, Okita seemed to be sleeping more and more each day. As a former student of medicine, he knew that it was just another morbid sign that Okita's body was giving up.

"His lungs are failing him."

"What?" Hijikata exclaimed, pulling away so as to get a better look at Matsumoto's face. He was completely serious.

"Not so loud, he's only just fallen asleep," Matsumoto said turning to him. "But yes, his lungs are slowly filling with liquid and now it's only a matter of time before they collapse altogether. I witnessed it myself; he stopped breathing, but only for a moment. And his cough...he sounds horrible"

Hijikata sighed. He knew what that meant, but he hated thinking about it. He had known Okita for so many years, had practically seen him grow into the great swordsman he was before he had gotten sick. Now, he was going to have to see him die.

He had seen a great deal of death during his time with the Shinsengumi, and even before when he had studied medicine. But the soldiers he'd slain in battle had died as warriors, proud and honorable, whereas Okita was going to die as a sickly man confined to a room in a hospital.

"Is there anything we can do for him?" Hijikata asked standing up and extending his hand to help Matsumoto.

Matsumoto took the offered hand, but would not meet his gaze. "We can try to make him comfortable."

º º º

"My haori," Okita said suddenly as Matsumoto wiped sweat from his brow.

He shifted his gaze to the side and looked longingly at his Shinsengumi haori hanging casually on the wall. He had been so excited the first day he'd received it and remembered wearing it with pride during his happier, healthier days.

"What about it?" Matsumoto asked. He rinsed the towel in a small wooden basin before folding it and placing it on Okita's forehead.

Okita slowly turned his eyes to look back at the doctor. Even a simple task such as eye movement took so much effort and caused him to sigh wearily as his body fought against the strain. "I want to wear it," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

A sad little smile crossed over Matsumoto's aging face and he shook his head. "You know you're too weak to get out of bed."

Okita sighed again, but this time it was in frustration. He stiffened and winced as a stabbing pain ripped through his chest causing him to forgo a much needed inhalation of air. When he saw this, Matsumoto combed the ailing man's hair away from his face, offering him a few comforting words.

He shuddered against the doctor's touch, his cool hands a temporarily relief as they brushed across his fevered skin. An increasingly dense fog seemed to be settling in on the cavities of his mind, causing him to grow sleepier with each passing second, but the irritating sound of his breathing, his wheezing, was enough to keep anyone awake.

There was the sound of a shoji opening and closing beside him, and he wanted to look, but he was so weak that he could only wait until the visitor was directly in front of him. He could feel the vibrations against his skin as they made their way across the room to sit beside him.

"Hijikata-san," Okita said for he could now see his visitor. He tried to smile, but even that hurt too much.

Hijikata did not speak to him, and although he was wearing a mask that covered half of his face, Okita could see the sympathy in his eyes. No, it was pity. Pity for the feeble lump of flesh lying before him. Okita knew Hijikata would never think of him that way, but there was still no denying the look he saw in the man's eyes.

"You can remove your mask," Matsumoto said turning to Hijikata. "The incense has burned out."

Okita coughed loudly, nearly choking on what could only be blood rising up from his lungs. His coughs produced pain shooting down to the tips of his toes, and he knew they could see the movement in his chest hitch as he tried to maintain the correct level of oxygen.

"Are you in great pain?" Matsumoto asked reaching for a fresh stick of incense.

Okita considered that for a moment. He was not usually the sarcastic type, and he wasn't sure he could find the strength to even think of anything witty to say anyway.

"I'll manage," he said eventually. "I don't want to use it anymore."

Matsumoto looked down at him, his face very grave. For anyone else it would have been difficult to tell, but with Matsumoto's experience and skill, hearing Okita speak then was his very own acceptance of death. He felt incapacitated enough and the use of drugs did nothing but hide his symptoms, making it seem like everything was going to be fine. Matsumoto knew that by denying the opium showed that Okita didn't want to pretend anymore--he knew what was coming and he didn't want to see it any other way.

"Very well then," he said sighing. It didn't matter how many people he treated, having a patient die would always be something that was difficult for him. "Let's listen to those lungs."

Okita steeled himself against the pain as he started to sit up, but Matsumoto gently pushed him back down. He smiled warmly at him. "You're fine; you don't need to get up."

Okita closed his eyes, relieved. The cold metal of Matsumoto's stethoscope startled him at first, but he waited patiently and did what Matsumoto instructed him to. When he was asked to take a deep breath, he coughed, the aching at his sides almost unbearable.

"What's wrong?" he heard Hijikata ask.

When Matsumoto was silent, Okita opened his eyes and looked up at him. He still had his stethoscope pressed against his chest, his face hard. Okita coughed piteously, a disgusting frothy sound that not only alerted him, but also Matsumoto and Hijikata. Although he had been coughing for months, he had never once sounded the way he did now.

"Sit up," Matsumoto commanded him, an unnerving urgency to his voice.

"What...?" Okita began as both Matsumoto and Hijikata worked to lift him into a comfortable sitting position. He was in agony as he was moved, but that did not stop him from wanting to know what was so important.

Okita was about to begin his question again, since no one had yet answered him, when he suddenly cried out, his chest flaring with an insufferable amount of pain. It was like no pain he had ever experienced, and when he began feeling faint he fought to keep himself conscious. He felt himself begin to gag as he coughed, and it was only when he expelled a great amount of blood from his mouth did he realize that Matsumoto was holding the small wooden basin used to dampen his washcloths just beneath his lips.

The room was silent save for Okita's labored breathing. There was a large quantity of blood in the basin before him, flecked with yellow-green blobs that were only God knows what. The sight of so much of his own blood made him dizzy and he swooned.

Exhausted, he slumped forward into the waiting arms of Hijikata, who helped him sit back and lean against the wall behind him. He opened his eyes and noticed a small spot of blood that was already starting to stain his kimono and the used towels in the wooden basin that were now soaked in red. Hijikata left quickly to replace the water and spoiled rags. Okita turned to Matsumoto, an awful dazed look on his face, yearning for an answer.

"Believe it or not," Matsumoto said suppressing a smile, "but that was actually a good thing." Okita said nothing and waited for him to elaborate. Matsumoto's expression turned grave. "As a result of your illness, your lungs have been slowly filling with mucopurulent (mucus) and blood, which essentially means that you are drowning in your own bodily fluids."

Okita sat motionless, absorbing Matsumoto's diagnosis. He had learned to accept blunt answers devoid of any kind of emotional attachment from when he had had Yamazaki as his primary physician, so hearing Matsumoto's professional description of his condition didn't necessarily bother him as much as it probably should have. But his chest was burning. He noticed that Matsumoto was eyeing him suspiciously, probably wanting to know what he was thinking.

_"You only have one year left..."_ That's what Yamazaki had said. Okita closed his eyes and sighed. It hadn't seemed very long since he'd heard those words, but he did know that his time was up. In a way, he was almost glad that he was going; it meant that there wouldn't be anymore pain.

He opened his eyes when he heard the door to his room being opened. Hijikata was back with a clean water basin, fresh water, and towels. He walked over to Matsumoto and placed the items on the tatami beside him. Matsumoto used one of the towels to wipe Okita's chin free of any remaining blood.

"Why are you smiling?" Matsumoto asked him.

"It's funny," Okita said. He knew he had been thinking it, but he had had no idea that he was giving himself away by actually smiling. "I can't even wipe my own face. That's proof of how pathetic I've become."

"Don't say that," Hijikata said speaking up for the first time. Figures; it would be to scold him.

Okita shook his head, his smile fading. "I'm nothing like I used to be. Someone this weak doesn't have the right to say they were ever a member of the Shinsengumi."

"But you are still a member," Hijikata said. Okita looked up at him, his eyes giving away his puzzled thoughts. "Just because the name has been changed to Koyo Chimbutai, doesn't mean that you, Okita Soji, are not still the first unit captain of the Shinsengumi."

"No," Okita said, shaking his head again. "I was discharged long ago--"

"You weren't." Hijikata waited for Okita's reaction before continuing. He expected to see surprise on his face, but Okita was just watching him warily. "Kondo never wanted to admit that you were really gone for good, so he never reported your absence to Katamori-sama."

Okita's face had changed very little after that bit of news. At first, it had been one of awe, and Hijikata couldn't help but notice how Okita had turned to his haori that still hung against the wall. He look he gave the garment was enough to tear at anyone's heart.

Hijikata looked over at Matsumoto who only nodded. Hijikata gave him a small smirk in thanks, and then got up to retrieve the haori. He pulled it delicately off its hanger and folded it over his arm before carrying it back to the others. He held it out in front of Okita, who had been following the haori with his eyes as if afraid it might disappear if he didn't keep a constant watch over it.

"Here," Hijikata said. He helped Okita slip his arms into the sleeves. "You look great."

Okita raised his arms as high as his weakened body could possibly make them go, which was just a few inches from where they currently lay at his sides, and inspected himself, now dressed as the warrior he had once been in what seemed like a completely different lifetime.

He leaned back against the wall, covering his mouth with his hands to muffle the sounds of his coughs. When he brought them away from his face he realized that they were covered in blood. Matsumoto took a damp towel, thoroughly wiping his hands.

"Thank you, Matsumoto-san," Okita said. His voice was lazy, tired-sounding. He got what had wanted--the chance to wear his haori one last time--and now he just wanted sleep. He wanted it all to be over.

Matsumoto looked at him curiously, taking in Okita's new facial features brought on by the disease. Okita was a pale person by nature, but throughout the course of his being sick, he had developed a sickly-ashen complexion. His eyes were bloodshot from the constant coughing, which also deprived him of much needed sleep, resulting in the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Okita's limbs had become nearly skeletal due to his lack of appetite, his fevers were at a constant high, and his lungs sounded worse than ever.

"Why don't you lie back down?" Matsumoto suggested. "I think you've gotten rid of a lot of the junk in your lungs that I think it will be okay," he added, giving a small reassuring smile.

Thankful to rest his tormented muscles, and with the help of Hijikata and Matsumoto, Okita snuggled back beneath his blankets, feeling the warmth slowly creeping back into his body. He closed his eyes and became still for a moment, listening to the things around him, although the arduous sound of his breathing was the loudest and most irritating noise he heard.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his haori, thinking he could almost see himself, centered between Kondo and Hijikata, swinging his katana and fighting for the beliefs engraved into his mind by Kondo himself.

He turned his chin slightly so that he was looking up at Hijikata. He frowned, realizing what he had missed before; his vision was beginning to grow dark around the edges, giving Hijikata's stoic face an almost hazy appearance.

"How is Kondo-san?" Okita asked casually.

Although his face remained unchanged, Okita noticed Hijikata's shoulders stiffen at the mention of their commander. His eyes bored into Okita, like he was thinking of exactly what he should say.

"He's...," Hijikata struggled to find the right word, a pause that was long enough to make Okita feel suspicious. "He's well."

He saw as Hijikata exchanged a quick glance with Matsumoto before returning his gaze to him. When Okita sighed it sounded like a loud wheeze, producing a rattling in his diseased lungs. He closed his eyes again, his blurred vision making him feel dizzy. He concentrated on inhaling and exhaling in the correct fashion, hoping to free the tightening in his chest.

Matsumoto prodded him gently, concerned.

"I thought so," Okita said finally. He sounded tired. "When did it happen?"

"So, you knew all this time...," Matsumoto said quietly, more to himself than to Okita.

"Back in May," Hijikata said. "He was tried and found guilty for the murder of Choshu's Sakamoto Ryoma."

There was no need to say what happened next. It was clear to assume from Hijikata's tone that Kondo had been executed that day for his crime. Okita bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to free his mind from the other pains he was feeling. Kondo's death was a tragic blow to him, but he was sure it was an event that strengthened the Koyo Chimbutai, which in turn, eased him because it ultimately helped Kondo and everything he had been fighting for. Okita would have done anything for him, even if it meant admitting that he had been responsible for Sakamoto Ryoma's death, but alas, he was being held up in a hospital room, dying.

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I came back to Edo," Hijikata continued, playing with the folds on one of Okita's blankets, "but I could never find the time. There was the matter of you getting sick, and Yamazaki's letter. After that, Takeuchi's family came to visit. I'm sorry, Soji."

Okita partly opened his eyes; they were so heavy that it was hard to keep them open. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, but he tried his best to blink them away. "No, Hijikata-san, please don't feel sorry," he said smiling weakly. "I fully understand your reasons for keeping this information from me. Somehow, I think I'd known for some time about Kondo-san's fate, I just tried to ignore it."

Hijikata watched the single tear that had managed to slip past Okita's defenses, catching it before it slid down to his ear. He brought his hand over and ruffled Okita's hair, frowning at how warm his forehead felt. Okita whimpered softly, tilting his head skyward so that he was just under Hijikata's cool touch. Hijikata looked over at Matsumoto who was already preparing a washcloth.

Okita sighed as the dampened towel made contact with his skin--it was a relief to ease the burning sensation. He turned his head away from Hijikata and Matsumoto to protect them from his infectious coughs, wincing as his diaphragm shuddered painfully. Everything hurt so much.

The older men watched as Okita closed his eyes, steeling himself against the pain. His body was drenched with sweat, and as he continued to struggle to breathe, his wheezing began to increase in volume.

"Okita?" Matsumoto started, forgetting his formalities in his haste. When Okita would not open his eyes, Matsumoto turned to Hijikata. "Did you hear that?" Hijikata only nodded, his face troubled.

The sound that Matsumoto was referring to was one that he should have suspected, for it was probably Amaterasu's undoing as well. It was the flopping sound of a pneumothorax, or collapsed lung. Before, Matsumoto had been able to treat the symptoms of tuberculosis, but with a pneumothorax, there was no longer anything he could do. Okita Soji was dying.

Okita's chest continued to rise and fall, but his whole body shuddered when he tried to inhale. With only one working lung, breathing became more painful than ever, and usually left Okita gasping. Aside from this, he was relatively quiet and had still not opened his eyes.

Finally, he looked up at his visitors and said, "I-I'm not ready to go."

Hijikata's breath caught as he noticed how strangely dull and lifeless Okita's eyes had become. He took Okita's hand in his, flinching; his hand was so cold. He didn't know what to say, he was just as helpless to do anything as anyone else in the room.

"Don't worry," Matsumoto said when Hijikata remained at a loss for words. "Everything will be all right."

No one spoke after that. Okita grew weaker with each passing minute, and his breath began to grow shallow. He kept his eyes open most of the time, but he was never actually looking at anything and his eyes remained unfocused. His mind grew cloudy and he found it difficult to even focus on the people around him. He tried to think of many things, but was unable to a majority of the time.

"I'm not...afraid," he said quietly after a while. "I'll be able to see...Kondo-sensei and...Amae-chan."

"Please don't talk," Hijikata begged him. It was the first time he had spoken in a long time. Because of Okita's collapsed lung breathing and even talking become a task, and Hijikata was concerned that talking would lessen his remaining time.

"Hijikata-san," Okita said. Every syllable was enunciated. "I bet you've been a wonderful commander in Kondo-sensei's place."

Okita gasped suddenly, his chest on fire. To help ease his pain, Matsumoto replaced the washcloth on his forehead with a fresh one. His fever continued to climb and the cool towel was the only kind of remedy that he would allow.

"Matsumoto-san, you've been a great doctor," Okita continued, gritting his teeth against the burning in his chest. "I also want to...to...thank you...on behalf of...on behalf of Yamazaki-san..."

Okita tried to smile, but his pain caused him to grimace instead. He clutched his chest, panting. His body felt so heavy, like he weighed as much as four men. Despite its difficulty, Okita raised both his arms and placed them on top of his chest as if cradling his ribs in an attempt to make the pain go away. To Hijikata and Matsumoto, Okita looked just about ready to be placed into his casket.

He tried to cough to loosen up the blood and phlegm from his other, functioning, lung, but it came out as a few muffled gasps. He closed his eyes and moaned, just physically and mentally exhausted from this entire ordeal. He felt Matsumoto readjusting the washcloth on his forehead, thinking it was the fever than plagued him now, but in reality, and he was positive that Matsumoto knew this already; he just wanted to rest in peace. Oh, why couldn't he just die already?

The pneumothorax was making it harder and harder to breathe. Okita could here as his breath grew shallower and shallower with each passing second. Although he had admitted earlier that he was no loner afraid, he knew that was also somewhat of a lie. He was definitely ready to rest, but in order for that to happen, he would need to stop breathing. That was a step that was crucial.

When Okita had fought alongside the Shinsengumi, death had not seemed like such a scary thing. Perhaps it was because Okita believed that he could control whether he lived or died; the better the swordsman, the better the chance for survival. Now, as he lay breathing his last, he realized that this retched disease was just like that better swordsman. He always knew that no matter where he went and how often he fought, there was always someone out there that was superior.

Okita opened his eyes, searching for a familiar face. His vision had gotten worse--he could barely distinguish colors and shapes.

"I'm ready," he said softly, his voice nearly inaudible.

"W-What are you talking about?" Hijikata stammered. Okita had never known him to stumble over his words. "There's no reason to talk like that."

Okita just smiled. "I don't want to delay this any longer....And even if I did, I really don't think I could."

"Stay safe," Matsumoto said, patting his shoulder.

Okita didn't know what the old man meant, but he appreciated his words nonetheless. "Thank you," he said, his tongue thick and heavy with fatigue. It made his words sound slurred. "I'm so tired..."

He saw Hijikata stiffen; the mere thought of what was to come frightened him. Finally, Hijikata's face softened ever so slightly. He smiled weakly.

"Then you should sleep, Soji. We'll be right here."

Okita closed his eyes, and the moment he did, he could feel himself slipping into another world. He felt himself steadily growing lighter, and the fire that was in his chest slowly began to ebb away until he could not even feel a dull ache. The fevers that had plagued him for so long also seemed to vanish, leaving him feeling cool and refreshed. He never heard when Hijikata let out what sounded like a choked-back sob, nor did he feel when Matsumoto covered his face with another dry washcloth, but all the same, there was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

Okita Soji was finally free.

º º º

Chapter Epilogue: Revisited

Hijikata sighed, placing the letter beside him. Now he knew how Okita felt during all the months that he had been away from the battlefield. With his fractured foot nearly healed his eagerness to return grew substantively. Fortunately, Matsumoto had said that he could be discharged as early as next month and Hijikata could only pray that Saito could hang on until then.

He couldn't help from smiling inwardly, his face remaining unchanged except for the sudden twinkle in his eyes. He would have been discharged weeks earlier, but due to over-strenuous training, he had reinjured his foot delaying his return to the Koyo Chimbutai. He kept telling himself, and Matsumoto even spoke of it once in passing, that Hijikata's sudden need to practice his kata was the method he used to keep his thoughts from straying to what had happened only days ago.

Hijikata had cried, he wasn't going to deny that. If he tried, his red-rimmed puffy eyes always gave him away. Hijikata was never known for showing any emotion other than an outward dislike for the world at whole, or perhaps the occasional glee he felt when perforating through an enemy's gut with his sword, but never would it be guessed that Hijikata Toshizo, "Oni" Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, and now Commander of the Koyo Chimbutai (although the title was temporarily being covered by Saito because of Hijikata's injury) could actually shed a tear, regardless of the circumstances.

So what? he thought to himself. He was a human being, despite the gossip he frequently heard between the troopsmen, and he would cry if he damned well pleased. He had known Okita for most of the man's very short life, and could even go as far as calling him family. If having a close member of the family pass away was what it took to get Hijikata to shed a couple of tears, then so be it.

He wiped at his eyes furiously, once again feeling the familiar stinging sensation.

He picked up the letter again, unfolding it and rereading it for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Every time he read it, he couldn't help but notice how the usually small and ornate brushstrokes were now large and scrawly, giving them an almost childish appearance.

_Hijikata-san,_ it read. _I'm sure the reason you are reading this letter is clear; I wrote it a few days ago and asked Matsumoto-san to give it to you when the time was right. Since you are the only living person who knows where to find my family, I ask that you send my body to the Okita family shrine. Find my sister Mitsu (she looks like me but with a crooked nose from when we were little and I punched her in the face and broke it)._

Here, Hijikata smirked, as he had all the other times he read through that part. He had met Okita Mitsu only once before, and had not remembered her because of her crooked nose, but rather because she was the wife of Okita Rintaro, a short-time member of the Shinsengumi and the now commander of the Shinchogumi.

_Ask her to have my birth name inscribed on my tombstone_, Hijikata continued. No matter how many times he read Okita's letter, the kanji for the last word of that sentence never got easier to read. It was obviously as hard for Hijikata to read it as it had to have been for Okita when he wrote it; it was nearly illegible and Hijikata could have sworn that there were spots of blood on the page.

_Lastly, I want to thank you, Hijikata-san._ The letter ended there. Somehow, it seemed incomplete, and it was possible that Okita's declining health was the likely cause of that. Finally, the letter was signed, _Okita Sojiro Fujiwara no Harumasa_: the name he requested he placed at his gravesite.

Okita, the free man.

º º º

_You know what's sad? I've done so much research on tuberculosis and on the lungs in general, that I feel like some kind of amateur pulmonologist, or something. I feel like I should just give up my current major and just go straight to medical school. Haha, but I would never do that._

_But enough of that, there are more important things that need to be discussed...like the completion of this story! Ah, finally! I want to thank everyone who had a part in the overall production in this story; from Hellfire13 who repeatedly inspired me by giving me characters, ideas, and even written paragraphs to be added to the story, to the reviewers, whose kind words always brightened my day. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!_

_Next, the epilogue wasn't even supposed to happen. I didn't want the story to just end with Okita's death (a little too morbid for my tastes), and then it kind of just wrote itself, which might explain why it may have just ended a little odd. My fingers tend to type whatever's on my mind whether I want them to or not...._

_Also, I'm dreadly sorry about the tardiness of this chapter. I do realize that it's much later than my intended release date, but my life has been so crazy these past few months, that I just decided to put off writing for a few days. Those days turned into a few more days, which then turned into weeks, etcetera. But now it's out and hopefully to your liking, and now I never have to think about updating this story EVER AGAIN._

_And another round of applause to everyone who made this story possible. I thank you from the deepest depths of my heart._


End file.
